Phoenix
by parmakai66
Summary: A new adventure for TnT. "It’s just kinda like getting your first apartment after ya move out of your folks place. Ya just want to be alone for the first few nights."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the Star Trek franchise, all its characters, and the worlds; I'm not making any money from this. I just borrowed a couple characters to play in my sandbox. I also reference events that occurred in Dave Stern's books Daedalus and Daedalus Children. No infringement intended on any front.

Disclaimer #2: While there are similarities between Phoenix and Rigil Kent's Endeavour series … I claim only mere coincidence. I had written most of Phoenix before reading Rigil's Endeavour story. (I have a witness that can verify this, since he and I have a mutual subject expert.)

A/N: I am a firm believer that the true finale of ST: ENT was Terra Prime. That other thing didn't exist.

Technical babble: Timeline: 2164, 101 years after Zefram Cochrane's flight and two years after the end of the Romulan War and the signing of the Federation Charter. (According to the Star Trek Encyclopedia Timeline, which was written before Enterprise, so it's might be slightly inaccurate). Alpha-Beta Quadrant Maps I used are from the Star Trek Star Charts Atlas, which lists the founding members of the Federation as Earth, Alpha Centauri, Vulcan, Andoria and Tellar.

If I made an error with the technical stuff … oops!! It's fiction .... don't freak out.

Most of the ships in my story are named after NASCAR race tracks, including my flagship, Phoenix. It wasn't until I was half way through writing it and re-watching First Contact that I had a "doi" moment about the name Phoenix.

Lastly, (geez, I feel like I'm accepting an emmy!) I want to thank my sister, Bob, Deb and Melinda my beta readers, 2Distracted and the many others who have helped me write and fix this story. It's been written, chucked, re-written, tossed in the corner, picked back up, betaed, grammar checked and spell check at least a 1000 times. Any mistakes still in there at this point belong to the ghost on deck eleven.

Phoenix. The adventure begins

Chapter 1

Jonathan Archer sat in the backseat of the hover-cab and stared blankly at the rain beating on the window. Thoughts of the upcoming Alliance Conference he was going to attend swirled around in his head. _Assigned to attend_, he mused silently. _I've been_ _promoted to Admiral and I'm __**still**__ ordered around. _He shook his head and sighed. He was not looking forward to working behind a desk.

A jerky stop and the blasting of the cab horn jolted his thoughts back to the moment. Archer leaned over and peered through the windshield. _Brake lights, _Archer scowled under his breath. He sat back and looked at the chronometer on the dash. _Ten twenty eight_. If traffic didn't clear up soon, he was going to be late. He ran his hand over his brow, and scrunched up his forehead. He hated being late

"Hey buddy, can't you speed it up a little?" Archer called to the driver from the backseat. "I have a meeting in a couple of minutes."

The driver, an older man with thick gray eyebrows and a weathered face, wearing a faded Giant's T-shirt, was cursing aloud and waving his arms to no one in particular. He paused in the middle of his colorful antics and yelled, "Whaddya mean ya moron? Faster? Faster?" he waved his hands around motioning at the traffic out the window. "Whaddya want me to do? Fly over the cars?"

Archer shook his head and stared out the window again. It was only a couple of blocks to the café where he was to meet Trip for breakfast. At the rate the traffic was moving, he could probably walk quicker than waiting for the cab, although it would mean getting wet, possibly soaked. He sat in silence for a few more seconds then leaned forward and replied to the driver, "Forget it, I'll walk. Let me out here."

"Whaddya mean you want out?" the driver barked out as he shifted the hover-cab into park. "Didn't ya notice it's comin' down like buckets?"

"Yea, well, I won't melt." Archer replied as he pressed his thumb on the payment pad in front of him. Once the hover-cab settled down on the ground, Archer opened the door and climbed out of the vehicle.

"I'm chargin' ya full fare, ya moron!" The cabbie yelled out as Archer slammed the cab door. The Admiral rolled his eyes and stared the back of the cab as it flew off. _What ever happened to customer service_, he thought to himself, then ducked his head from the rain and ran down the street.

Squat and Gobble was a local breakfast café that had been a part of the landscape in the Cow Hollow district of San Francisco for over 195 years. The interior hadn't changed much since it opened. The décor was made up of exposed brick and rough oak floors weathered by years of chairs scraping across them, and the occasional spilled meal. The wood tables with mismatched chairs were covered with white wax paper and crayons filled a cup holder by the napkin dispenser. The daily menu was written on chalkboards, a tradition started in the late 1990's.

The aroma of sweet sticky syrup and fresh sizzling bacon assaulted Archer as he opened the door to the café. The noise level was a low murmur as light jazz played in the background. He scanned the crowd looking for his friend's face and then heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Cap'n, over here."

Archer turned to greet the voice, Captain Charles Tucker the Third where he stood by a table tucked in a corner by the window. Archer walked in his direction, shaking his head slightly to get some of the rain out of it.

"Good to see you Trip," Archer said, extending his hand to his friend.

"You're soaked Cap'n" Trip replied. "Did ya run here from your apartment or sumthin'? You could'ah taken a hover-cab."

Archer settled himself in his chair before replying. "I _did _take a hover-cab, at least for the first couple of blocks." He rolled his eyes in frustration before continuing, "I just don't understand why people haven't learned to drive in the weather. It's not like it never rains out here."

"Yea, well, that's a mystery that is yet to be solved. Thank god there aren't traffic jams in space," Tucker smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Since you were late, I took the liberty of ordering for you."

Archer looked at his friend in dismay. "Oh no, that is why I ran the last couple of blocks." He laughed nervously. "What am I eating?"

Tucker sat back in his chair and tried unsuccessfully to be serious. "The special."

The Admiral looked up at the main chalkboard and read the special aloud. "Mexican Omelet? Great, are you trying to kill me? You know that will give me heart burn." A server walked by and set a pot of fresh coffee on the table. Archer turned the cups over and poured the hot liquid and creamer into them.

"Aw, Jon, it will just make ya a lil' more feisty on ya upcoming mission." Tucker said taking a sip of his coffee, a sly expression dancing across his face.

The two continued in idle conversation for several minutes until the server brought their breakfast to the table. Archer smiled in approval as he inspected his real meal, scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, and a side of pancakes. "Better choice," he commented. "You're lucky … otherwise I would have to consider busting you back down to Commander."

Trip choked back laughter as he took a swallow of his juice. The liquid spilled out of the glass and ran down his face. He set the glass down and wiped his face with his napkin still laughing. "That's ok, I'm sure that Admiral Ford will find a way to do that on his own." Tucker dumped half the bottle of maple syrup over his own pancakes and cut them up into bite-sized pieces. "He is so fond of me ya know."

Archer laughed and set his fork down. "I'm not the teacher's pet either. However, I'm a little confused as to why you think he doesn't like you. I don't even think he knows you."

"Oh he knows me …," Trip muttered ruefully. "Let's just say that it's probably not 'work' related."

Jon leaned forward at that. "Ah, come on, now you got my curiosity up, what gives?"

Trip was silent for a moment and ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek. "Remember Linda Oliver? Red hair, medium height, attractive?" He looked over to his friend to see if he was catching on, when he realized he wasn't, he continued. "I dated her when we were doing the flight tests on the Warp Five engine."

Archer nodded and replied. "Hmm, yeah. She was in her final year at the Academy and was completing an internship in our department." Archer took a drink of his orange juice and then waved his hand around at nothing. "If I remember correctly I think I warned you about the "fraternization" policy back then."

Trip picked up a slice of bacon and bit off a piece. "Well, I wish I would have listened because after a couple of months I hooked up with Natalie." He took another bite of the bacon and then a drink of juice before he continued. "I thought I could see both of them and _'not get caught'_ being as they were on different sides of the country and all."

Archer started to laugh understanding the typical Trip behavior. "How did that work out?"

Trip rolled his eyes and blew a puff of air out of his mouth before continuing. "It didn't. Natalie made the mistake of calling my apartment one morning when Linda was there. Guess who answered the phone?"

"Ohh, nooo" Archer replied laughing.

Trip shook his head again thinking back to the confrontation that followed shortly after. "Anyway, needless to say, Linda and I broke up shortly after that."

Jon was quiet as he moved the eggs around with his fork. "So how does Ford play into all of that?"

Trip looked up at him and sighed. "Ugh….Linda is Ford's niece."

Archer grimaced "ouch" as Trip continued.

"You can see why the guy hates me now. He never married and doesn't have any kids; Linda always talked about her Uncle Al, and said he was like a father to her. I didn't make the connection until much later when Jim Williams told me."

"Yeow." Archer replied sympathetically. "Trip, do you honestly think he would be holding a personal grudge?"

"Jon, seriously, if some guy broke your daughter or niece's heart, wouldn't you hold a grudge?" Trip sat back in his chair frustrated. "The guy has never been nice to me since."

"Trip, we were in space for over nine years, when did your paths even cross? Ford was assigned to the Academy the entire time we were gone." Archer questioned him. Trip didn't answer and avoided eye contact with Archer. After a moment Archer continued, "I think you are over reacting."

Trip moved his food around on the plate with his fork for a few moments and then looked out the window. "Yeah, well, I guess that remains to be seen. Look, can we just drop it? I don't want to talk about it anymore" He turned back toward the Admiral before continuing. "What about the 'mission' you've been assigned? I thought Admiral Cooper was the official representative on the Diplomatic Task force."

Archer ate the last bite of bacon from his plate and sat back in his chair. "Well, he is technically, but apparently he has a more important engagement to attend." He was silent for a moment thinking about the mission. "If anything, at least I'll be back out in space again for a while, and I'll have the chance to meet some new species, especially the Anoree. Phlox told me they have some medical resources that may be of interest to us."

Trip tilted his head and asked the question, trying to sound interested. "What type of medical resources?"

"Advanced Infertility Sequencing. Apparently their race has had severe problems in the past decade with reproduction and they have developed several effective techniques to counteract it."

Tucker rolled his eye and looked seriously at his friend. "Are you for real? You can't tell me you're looking forward to going to that?"

Archer took a deep breath and the muttered. "No, I'm not looking forward to it all. I actually could care less. However, that is what Starfleet wants me to do, so that is what I'll do. Besides it will give me a chance to catch up with Mayweather."

"Mayweather," Trip questioned. "I thought he was teaching at Starfleet."

Archer sat back and smiled. "Well, rank does have some privileges. He _was _teaching, but I requested him as part of my detail. Captain Harvick didn't care because his senior helmsman had just been transferred to a position on Earth." Archer's eyes twinkled at Tucker.

"Wha, you son-of-a-" Tucker replied jokingly. "I don't suppose you had any influence T'Pol being assigned as the science officer of the Phoenix?"

Archer didn't respond at first because the smile on his face had given him away. "Like I said, rank does have its privileges."

Tucker smiled and pointed his spoon at him. "Well, I guess I owe you for that. Now can you do something about getting the 'Ole Man' off my bridge?"

Archer shook his head. "You know a hundred and fifty years ago it was common practice for an Admiral to be assigned command of an aircraft carrier."

Trip looked up at Archer with a raised eyebrow. "An aircraft carrier? That's your analogy? Aircraft carriers had crew compliments of over 5000 people. They _were_ a city. They needed a mayor. Phoenix can carry maybe 370 at max capacity. That's no different from Mulligan's Pub on a Friday night. Shoot, all we need is a bartender."

Archer snickered, "Comparing yourself to a bartender? You've been on earth too long my friend."

Trip leaned forward at the table. "No, think about it Jon," he said thoughtfully. "Captains are like bartenders, in a sense. A bartender controls the flow in the pub. They give direction to a group of people, listen to everyone's problems and then give advice or make decisions based on what they have heard." He took a sip of coffee before continuing. "They keep order and try to please for the most part ... and then in extreme cases, order people out or delegate someone else to do the dirty work." He looked up at Archer with a twinkle in his eye.

"You learned all of that watching the bartender at Mulligan's?" Archer questioned.

"Nahh, I learned all of that watching you." Trip smiled at his friend. "Stu and the Gervase made the correlation."

"At Mulligan's?"

"Yea, well, the premise is sound," Trip replied smiling. "Besides that still doesn't get 'Ole Man' Stewart off my back."

Archer took a sip of coffee and stared out the window for a moment. "Admiral Stewart thinks very highly of you Trip. You could probably learn a thing or two from him."

Trip shifted his weight in his chair. "Oh, I don't doubt that at all Jon. I really like the guy. It's just kinda like getting your first apartment after ya move out of your folks place. Ya just want to be _alone_ for the first few nights."

Archer stared at his friend a moment. "No one doubts your ability Trip, especially Stewart"

Trip stared into his coffee for a few seconds and looked up at Archer with a mischievous grin on his face. "I guess the least I can do is take the Admiral on a test drive around the block a couple of times." He waved down the server for a refill of his coffee. "He's already told me that he is gonna to sit in the backseat for the most part. I put up with you for ten years. A couple of day trips with him ought to be a piece of cake."

Archer sat back in his chair and looked at Tucker before glancing at his watch. "I think Admiral Stewart will be getting the better end of the stick. Captain Tucker is worlds away from the young Commander Tucker I flew with."

Tucker glanced at Archer and pointed at him with his spoon. "You're probably right … I have _matured_ in the past ten years. I owe a lot to you."

Archer looked down at the table and said nothing for a moment. Memories of their time together flashed through his mind, many good times, some not so good times, but great memories all the same. The silence at the table was quickly replaced by the sounds in the restaurant, the murmur of voices from the surrounding tables, and the barely audible jazz in the background. Archer blindly surveyed the sights in the room. In a couple of days, life as he knew it, life as it had been for the past ten years was going to change. Trip would launch back into space on a new ship, the fastest in the fleet. He would stand on the bridge as the Captain, not a Chief Engineer.

In that brief moment of silence, Tucker reflected as well. He noticed the gray in Archer's temples. The man he always thought of as a brother more than his commanding officer was getting older and moving on. When the Phoenix left space dock in a couple of days, Jonathan Archer wasn't going to be his Captain anymore. Trip would be on his own, commanding his own staff, maneuvering his own ship …. at least in theory anyway. Admiral Stewart was officially the Commanding Officer of the ship, but Trip would be on the bridge, leading her out on her maiden voyage.

Both men were awakened from their trance as two servers ran into each other at the counter and dropped a tray of food. Archer shuffled his feet and glanced at his watch. "I could stay here all day and reminisce with you Trip, but I've got packing to do."

Trip took a last drink of his coffee and nodded. "Yeah, this is no time to get all mushy and nostalgic." He stood up and put on his jacket. "I'm playing racquetball with Stu in an hour. I can't be all teary eyed when I see him."

Archer smiled and patted his friend on the back. They weaved through the tables to the door and walked outside of the café. It had stopped raining and the sun was trying to peek through the clouds.

"You walkin'?" Archer asked.

"Yeah, Stu's place is just around the corner. I told him that I would meet him there after breakfast."

"Ok, well, have a good mission. We'll do this again in a couple of weeks." Archer shook Trip's hand and then stepped over to the cabstand at the curb. Tucker turned and headed down the block in the opposite direction. A hover-cab pulled up a few moments later. Once it settled on the ground, Archer opened the door and stepped inside. The driver turned slightly to the right and yelled over his shoulder at Archer.

"Where ya goin' Mister?"

The faded Giant T-shirt caught Archer's eye as he looked at the driver. _Oh great,_ he thought to himself. "Starfleet Headquarters." Archer replied staring out the window.

"Starfleet headquarters?" The driver mumbled to himself. "Now there is a place filled with a bunch of wise ass morons."

Archer shook his head, not believing his odds of ending up with the same cab driver. The driver put the car in gear and the hover cab lifted off and flew down the street toward Starfleet HQ. Archer leaned back in the seat and rubbed his hand across his brow again. He was really going to hate working behind a desk.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Ambassador paced his Alpha Centurian hotel suite reading a PADD. After a moment, he threw it on the bed, and slumped into a chair. He leaned his head forward, resting his arms on his legs and ran his palms over the scales on his head. He was deep in thought when a knock on the door startled him. He looked around bewildered for a moment before responding. "Come in".

The door opened quickly as a short reptilian male bolted through. "Gevale, milord, I've been going over the reports," he stammered out quickly, his scales standing on end in excitement. "If everything goes according to plan, our projections should be…" The male stopped mid sentence and stared at Gevale slumped in the chair. Gevale was shaking his head. "What's wrong, milord?" the shorter male asked.

Gevale sat upright. "It's not going to work, Atar. The sequencing will not produce a pure Anoree." He paused for a moment before continuing, "I don't feel right about deceiving another race into …. helping us."

"Don't be such a pessimist, Ambassador. We are not trying to produce a pure Anoree. It will work, it has worked in the simulations," replied a frantic Atar. He shuffled through the PADD's in his hand to find some data on the simulations. "Here, here ... the latest projections show we could have viable offspring in two to three human years." He handed the PADD to Gevale. "We are not being deceptive. We are just asking for help."

Gevale stared at Atar and then stood up. "I am not here to ask another species for help Atar! We will share our medical knowledge with others to gain their confidence of course. Ultimately, we are here to steal their DNA. And for what? To produce a…a," Gevale waved his arms in the air in frustration and stormed around the room. "A hybrid? Something that I don't even agree with and won't even be a reality for two or three years? That is not an acceptable answer Atar." He walked slowly to the window and gazed out at the courtyard. "Our population's youngest females are entering their second cycle. Fertilization can only occur in that cycle, so if we have to wait…" Gevale closed his eyes for a moment and mumbled softly to himself, "hybrids", and then he turned back to Atar. "I'm not convinced that hybrids are our future."

Atar stared at the floor for a few minutes and said nothing. Then he walked toward Gevale at the window. "Hybrids are the only answer we have left, Ambassador Gevale. The Naree sealed our fate 50 years ago during the bombing. The Naree have been genetically altering their offspring for years. Our method is different … it's better. Our females can carry the offspring instead of a host and the result will be more pure."

"That we know of," Gevale commented as he walked past Atar and headed over to the bar area of his suite. He stared at the drink dispenser for a few moments and then ordered water. He sucked down the liquid and left the glass on the adjacent countertop.

Atar walked to the door, his scales laying flat on his head. "Ambassador, milord, as our leader, you cannot just give up hope. That is exactly what the Naree want. I know you do not approve of our project; however, it is our only salvation. We either try this, or we die." He looked back at the Ambassador, who was leaning against the wall, and left the room shaking his head.

After the door closed, Gevale turned back toward the window and sighed. He was so tired. They had been warring with the Naree for over a century, a species that shared the Anoree home world. Fifty years before, the Naree had dropped dirty bombs over the key Anoree cities. The results were disastrous. The vapor cloud enveloped the planet, contaminating the air and water supply. It rendered the females of both races barren and slowly began to affect the males. Twenty years later as part of a desperate medical experiment, a thousand females had been genetically engineered and raised in controlled conditions in order to protect their fertility. The first group came into cycle but did not produce any offspring. The second control group would be starting their cycle within weeks, but with no fertile Anoree males left on the planet, it would be impossible for a pure Anoree to be conceived.

Gevale walked over to his bed and picked up the PADD he had tossed there earlier. His assignment was to attend the conference on a fact-finding mission, to find a viable gene pool for their project. He thumbed through the information on the display and stared at the projections. He sat on the bed, and curled over onto his side. He needed to clear his head and rest. Perhaps tomorrow he would wake up more optimistic.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

"Captain on deck!"

The perfectly intoned holler caused Trip to jump slightly as he stepped through the airlock. The formality of this crew was unnerving at times. He glanced around the airlock and found four officers and crewmembers frozen at attention.

"As you were," Trip muttered. He heard snickering behind him and looked back to the officer following him.

"Lil jumpy there, Cap'n?" The officer asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Did'ja tell'em to do that?" Trip questioned his friend for a moment with raised eyebrows. Commander Stu Rybaiski, the Chief Engineer of the Phoenix looked at him and shook his head. "I'm not even in uniform! "

Rybaiski turned and started down the corridor. His lanky but muscular build reminded Tucker more of a professional basketball player, than of the engineer of a starship. Rybaiski had the whole package though intelligence, athletic ability and great looks. Stu was a charmer, winning over Starfleet Command and anyone else that stepped in his path

"I thought you command types thrived on that type of stuff," Stu commented as he walked. "The Admiral sure does. He rules this boat with an iron fist."

"The Admiral," Trip chuckled before continuing. "That's what happens when you spend your career at Starfleet. Ya haf'ta stick with the formality, because ya don't have any other experience to go with."

Rybaiski turned to his friend at that comment and replied, "Is that your official position on Admiral Stewart?"

Tucker looked around the corridor to see if anyone was listening. "I don't have an official position on the Admiral, my friend. As I see it, he is just out for a Sun…"

"Bridge to Captain Tucker."

It was Hoshi's voice over the comm. Tucker and Rybaiski gave each other a puzzled look.

"Hoshi's still on board?" asked Rybaiski first.

Tucker shrugged his shoulders, "What, like I know? I've been planet side for the past four days with you."

"You're supposed to know that stuff. You're the captain."

Tucker grinned and shook his head. He walked to the nearest comm panel, and keyed it open "Tucker here."

"Admiral Stewart is requesting your presence in his ready room immediately."

"On my way, Tucker out."

"You going up there dressed like that?" Rybaiski commented gesturing at Tucker's attire, t-shirt, jeans, and gym shoes.

"Well, the ole man wants me up there right away. Besides, I need to exert my authority on the '_more informal atmosphere'_. Hey, could you drop my bag off at my quarters?" he asked handing Rybaiski his travel bag.

"No problem brotha. Good luck with that casual atmosphere thing. Let me know how it goes." Rybaiski walked away from Tucker toward the turbolift at the end of the hallway. As Tucker turned to walk to the bridge turbo-lift, Rybaiski called back over his shoulder. "Hey! Find out about Hoshi too."

-00-

When the lift doors opened, Trip stepped out at the rear of the bridge. The new design allowed for a bigger more semi-circular room. The tactical and communication stations were positioned on either side of the main turbolift. The astrometric, science and engineering stations were situated on the starboard side of the bridge. The helm was in the center of the room with the command chairs for the Admiral and Captain located directly behind it. The ready room was on the port side of the bridge.

The room appeared clear of personnel much to Tucker's delight since he wasn't in the mood to have his presence on deck announced again. He stepped over to tactical and punched a few buttons to bring up the most recent engineering report on the display. He scanned the screen and paged through the data, immersed in his thoughts about the ship.

"Nice uniform, Captain." The voice startled him and he quickly looked to his left. Hoshi was lying on the floor under the comm station with a spanner in her hand.

"Geezus, you scared the crap outta me." Trip breathed a sigh of relief before continuing. "What're ya still doing onboard? I thought you moved all your gear back to your mom's last week."

"I did," Hoshi said as she climbed out from under the station and wiped the dirt from her hands. "The Admiral asked me to come back to 'fine tune' the comm array before departure."

Trip keyed off the display and started to walk toward the ready room. "If you're having second thoughts, you can stick around ya know."

Hoshi smiled and shook her head. "You and the Admiral … you guys just don't give up do you?"

"Can't blame the Captain for trying."

Hoshi chuckled and knelt down to crawl under the station again. "You better not keep the Admiral waiting, sir. He's in a mood."

"Good or bad?"

"I'd classify it as odd," Hoshi replied ducking back under the console.

"An odd mood? Interesting description," Trip muttered under his breath as he noticed a strange expression on Hoshi's face. Tucker had known Admiral Stewart for over three years and had never seen a pessimistic side of him. Trip turned and walked down the ramp to the ready room door and rang the bell. He heard a muffled greeting to enter before pushing the door control to open it.

-00-

Trip found Admiral Anthony Stewart sitting at his desk facing the window dressed in jeans and a Starfleet sweatshirt. Stewart was in his sixties, but appeared ten years younger. His hair and eyes were gray. He was tall and muscular. He worked out everyday, led a healthy lifestyle, and rarely indulged in any alcohol. He was a man of tradition and formality, and brought order to those around him. To an outsider, he appeared rigid and unforgiving.

Only a few knew the real Stewart and Tucker was one of the privileged. Stewart was his coach and teacher. His lessons didn't come from preaching, but from allowing his students to learn from his guidance, trial and error. His stories always had a moral … although his students generally didn't hear it until they completely made a mess of things. His tenure at Starfleet Command and the Academy had afforded him a family, children and grandchildren. And in the year before his retirement, he just wanted a chance to travel the stars.

As Tucker walked into the ready room, he noticed Stewart's uniform hanging neatly assembled on the coat rack in the corner of the room. Although the man had a more relaxed demeanor around Tucker, he was rarely out of uniform on the ship. Trip walked to the chair opposite the Admiral's desk and took a seat before speaking.

"Admiral, something ya wanted to see me about?" Trip asked, with a concerned tone in his voice.

"How was shore leave, Trip?' the Admiral asked, without turning around.

"Short. Saw my folks and my brother's kids. Stu and I got in some racquetball. The Phoenix's softball team won the tournament. Had breakfast with Archer before he left on his first official Admiral mission."

Stewart turned around and looked at Tucker quizzically. "You did all that in four days?"

Trip smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Ya gotta pack it all in sir. Who knows when we'll get back to Earth?"

Stewart shook his head, "What I wouldn't give to be younger," he muttered under his breath.

"Ah, what are you talking about? I've seen ya chase your grandkids around the yard plenty of times. You wear me out." Tucker replied, eyes twinkling. He watched Stewart glance over at him with a small smile on his face. "What's up with you being out of uniform? If the crew saw you like that, it would ruin your image."

"My image," Stewart guffawed leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, well, I'm grounded."

"Grounded?" Tucker was confused. "By who, your wife?"

"McCann, you idiot."

"Your nephew?" Tucker questioned, not understanding.

Stewart stood up and walked around the desk. "That's Lieutenant Commander McCann, Chief Medical Officer of this ship, Captain. Leave the nephew out of it." Stewart leaned up against the desk and sighed. "I didn't pass pre-flight medical."

"Are you kidding me?" Tucker was stunned. "You're healthier than half of the crew."

Stewart rolled his eyes, pushed off the desk and walked over to the window. "I was in the gym playing a little one-on-one with Zack yesterday and I had some _minor _discomfort in my chest. So he ran some tests and … you can figure out the rest."

"Wha? _You_ had a heart attack?" Tucker couldn't believe it. "Shouldn't you be in bed, sir?"

Stewart turned around and put his hand up to Tucker, like a traffic cop. "Stop, I don't want to hear it. Bed rest is for sick people. _Do I look sick to you_?" He paused for a moment pacing around the ready room. Tucker watched bewildered.

"Blasted medical doctors!" Stewart retorted and then began to chuckle in an ironic way. "In all of our technological advances, one would think they could come up with a cure for myocardial infarction." He paused a moment and shook his head. "I just don't understand it. I eat right; work out all the time, and...agghh." He threw his hands up in frustration and leaned against the wall.

Tucker shifted in his chair. Despite all his grumblings about making this trip with the Admiral, he _had_ been looking forward to the mission and his guidance. No matter what happened out there, Stewart would be the buffer with Starfleet and _take the heat_, in a manner of speaking. Now it looked like his wish to go it alone was going to come true and in a small way, it scared the hell out of him. "How long will you be out?"

"That is yet to be determined." The Admiral replied quickly, slightly mocking the CMO in a sing-songy voice. He walked back to the desk and picked up a PADD that was laying there. "I've been thinking about the command structure for this mission. I think it best if we move Rybaiski to Acting First Officer. Lieutenant Dempsey can take the lead in engineering until …. until I get more information from Starfleet Medical." He handed the PADD to Tucker.

"Wouldn't T'Pol be a more experienced First Officer candidate?" Trip blurted out as he took the PADD from the Admiral.

Stewart eyed the Captain carefully. "Yes, she would. In fact she'd be my first choice if you weren't the Captain and she wasn't your wife," he replied curtly as he looked down at Tucker. "Trip, there is no way in hell Starfleet is going to go for that, not with your personal relationship being so public."

"That wasn't our choice, sir," Trip replied defending himself and T'Pol.

"You're singing to the choir, Trip," he answered. "I know that you two played the game for the last eighteen months and trust me it went a long way in your favor as far as her posting to Phoenix. Bottom line, she can advise you in an unofficial capacity all you want, but she cannot be your First Officer."

Trip sighed in defeat, knowing that Stewart was right. He _was _lucky that Starfleet had assigned T'Pol to Phoenix at all, considering that two years ago they had been forced apart with separate postings. Archer and Stewart had gone to bat for him and he just needed to accept it and not try to push his luck.

He sat in silence scrolling through the names on the PADD and mentally agreeing with the assignments. Phoenix was to be the first ship in the fleet with an integrated crew, hailing from the worlds that had signed the original charter: Earth, Alpha Centauri, Vulcan, Tellar and Andoria. The lieutenant Stewart was speaking of to cover as Chief Engineer was an Andorian engineer who had been serving in the Interspecies Officer Exchange. He had adopted the nickname Dempsey during his time in Starfleet as his given name was a tongue twister. Dempsey had served in the Imperial Guard as engineer and his rank was equivalent to a Lieutenant. He was knowledgeable in the field and had earned a lot of respect with the engineering team during final construction of Phoenix. Uncharacteristic of an Andorian, Dempsey was reserved and kept his cool in the heat of the moment. Dempsey was tall and lanky. His skin was pale blue and his hair white. Like Trip he could fix the engine with some duct tape and a paperclip and had an analytical gift for thinking on the fly. With a little coaching from Rybaiski, he had even figured out the finer points of playing softball.

After reviewing the other personnel changes, Trip sighed and then looked up at Stewart. "I noticed two supply ships off-loading cargo on our way up in the transport. Can I assume we have gotten our 'hall pass' to get out of the gate?"

"You should never assume anything, Captain," Stewart replied as he leaned over the desk and picked up another PADD. "I sent the mission briefing to the computer in your office, but here's the cliff note version." He handed the PADD to Tucker and then walked around the desk and sat in his chair. "We've been assigned to two supply runs. We'll proceed to Starbase One, exchange supplies, pick Commander T'Pol and our six Tellarite officers. The second portion of our mission is to proceed to Benzar system and rendezvous with Columbia."

Tucker rolled his tongue across the inside of his cheek. Starbase One was an Andorian Orbital Platform-Outpost that had managed to survive the border war with Romulus. T'Pol had been assigned to the Starbase eighteen months ago, overseeing the set up of the science and research facility, which Tucker had begrudgingly agreed too only because he had been promoted to Captain and assigned to Phoenix during its final construction.

"Benzar huh?" Tucker looked at Stewart with raised eyebrows. "That's over forty light years from the Starbase… a seven week trip at warp five. Anything in particular Columbia needs from us?" Tucker asked with a questioning glare. "There's not another ship closer? What about Talladega or Darlington?"

"Columbia has been patrolling the newly established neutral zone. Benzar is the halfway point. You'll receive further instructions regarding the rendezvous when you arrive at the Starbase, Captain." Stewart replied suddenly all business. "Starfleet will be clearing the ship to leave space-dock within the next eight hours. I have scheduled a mission briefing with the senior staff at fifteen thirty hours. Meet me back here at fourteen thirty to discuss the ship business and crew assignments."

Trip could tell by the Admiral's tone something was up, but he wasn't going to divulge any additional information about the mission. The all business attitude was a sign not to ask either. The sudden rush to leave space dock was making Trip uneasy, but he trusted the Admiral and knew if he was withholding information, it was for a good reason. He stood up from the chair and walked over to the door. "Aye sir. I'll see you at fourteen thirty." Tucker hesitated at the door a moment to catch Stewart's attention again. When he looked up at Tucker, Trip smiled at him teasingly "You know Admiral, you shouldn't be so down about this medical thing … they haven't figured out a cure for the common cold either. At least you were sidelined for a legitimate illness."

The Admiral stared at the Captain for a moment. Tucker could see the cool professional glare in his eyes melt away to the smile hiding behind them. "Mr. Tucker, I believe you have a mission to prepare for … which reminds me, exactly why are you out of uniform? What kind of example are you setting for your crew?

"Admiral, I just had to see the softie one more time before he disembarked." Tucker replied with a smile on his face. Trip stepped through the doorway and left the admiral to his thoughts.

-00-

"Hoshi, hold up."

The mission briefing with the senior staff had just let out and Hoshi was walking down the hall toward the turbo lift. She turned to toward the voice and saw Commander Rybaiski trying to catch her.

"Commander?" She answered.

"I'm really glad you decided to stay on board," Stu called out as he jogged the last few steps to her.

"I'm only on board temporarily, Commander," she replied curtly. "Just for this mission."

His mouth curled into a smile. "Is that the only reason?" _Playing hard to get, _he thought. He looked into her eyes and watched her pupils dilate. _She's still interested,_ he mused.

Hoshi looked at him quizzically, although the innuendo was evident. She felt her pulse quicken and quietly scolded herself for letting him get to her this way. They had dated for months while the ship was in final construction. She thought the relationship was growing into something special, but then she saw Rybaiski with another woman and realized the truth. Stu was a charmer and nothing more.

"Commander, I was asked by Admiral Stewart and Captain Tucker to stay on for this mission and that is the only reason why I am here." She turned quickly and started to walk away from him, blending into the other crewmen in the corridor. In seconds, she felt his hand on her arm and he swung her around to face him. Several passing crewmen stared at the encounter and Hoshi's face flushed with embarrassment.

"And that's the only reason?" Rybaiski asked her again, his voice husky this time.

"Commander," Hoshi replied glaring at him. "Red light."

"Stop hiding behind the titles and codes, Hoshi, we know each other better than that."

Hoshi squirmed in his grasp before responding to him. "I highly doubt the other names I have for you would be appropriate now that you are the First Officer."

Stu smiled and released the hold on her arm. He laughed quietly before answering. "Oh really? What terms of endearment would they be? Baby? Pookey?"

Hoshi sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself … that would be more like jerk, jackass… just to name a few."

Stu stared at Hoshi for a moment not believing that she would be holding a grudge after all this time. He could still see desire in her eyes. "Come on, Hoshi, that was months ago. We are starting a whole new adventure now, a new beginning."

Hoshi gaped at his remark and shook her head at his audacity. "Whaa.. I ahhh…." She stumbled over her words for a few seconds and then turned to walk away from him down the corridor completely frustrated. _Men_, she thought to herself, her blood boiling in anger. She turned back around to confront him, against her better judgment.

"You are such a pigheaded jerk!" She yelled at him as she walked back to where he was still standing. He had a smug look on his face, which fueled her fire even more. "I don't understand how men think. Why do you need to have all the deserts on the table? Why can't you be satisfied with just one?"

Rybaiski laughed in her face at her comment. "You are comparing yourself with desert? Hoshi, you were the main course."

"Don't insult my intelligence Stu, if that were true, you wouldn't have slept with her."

"You shouldn't jump to conclusions… I never slept with Leslie."

"Daaaa…" Hoshi squawked out holding up her hand, "I don't need to know her name. I don't want to know anything about her. I just want you to leave me alone! However since that will obviously be impossible, I think it would be best if we keep our relationship on a professional level during this mission." She turned away from him and started down the corridor again.

Rybaiski loved arguing with her and this foray had completely spiked his interest. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him, this time noticing that she didn't resist. He leaned over toward her face intending to plant a kiss on her lips, but Hoshi turned her head away from him at the last minute, which left his target being her right cheek instead. She again squirmed in his grip.

"Stu, stop. Let go of me," she protested. "It's not appropriate."

"Commander Rybaiski. Is there a problem here?"

Both Sato and Rybaiski turned to the direction of the voice and discovered Captain Tucker walking toward them very quickly. He did not look amused. Rybaiski dropped Sato's arm immediately and they both took a step away from each other.

"No, sir," Rybaiski replied sheepishly.

"Good, then you won't mind stepping into conference room." Tucker stared Rybaiski down, eyes burning with fire. Rybaiski nodded and walked down the hallway to the conference room without saying a word. When he was out of sight, Tucker turned back at Sato with a disappointed expression on his face.

"What are you doing?"

"He started it, I was just defending myself."

Tucker tilted his head to the side, "If you were truly trying to defend yourself Hoshi, you should have just walked away."

"He can't help it that he was dealt the jerk card," she mumbled.

"If that's the case, what's your excuse?" Trip asked Sato. He waited a second for her reply, when she said nothing he continued. "Considering the conversation you and I had less than an hour ago about this exact situation, you are just as responsible as he. Getting into an argument with him in the corridor in front of junior officers is not appropriate behavior for a member of the senior staff." He held eye contact with her for a minute until she looked away. "You need to be part of the solution, not the problem. I do not want a repeat performance, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed," Tucker remarked flatly. He watched Sato turn from him and walk down the corridor to the turbo lift. He turned and headed toward the conference room, thinking back to his conversation with Archer and the analogy of a captain being like a bartender. _Guess I need to add relationship counselor to that list_, he noted quietly.

Rybaiski was leaning against the conference table when Tucker entered the room. Trip didn't give him any time to defend himself. "What the hell were you thinking out there? Did you happen to forget that you are the second in command of this ship and having a domestic squabble with your former girlfriend in front of god and everybody was completely inappropriate?"

Rybaiski stumbled over his tongue for several seconds in an attempt to defend himself, but when nothing comprehendible came out of his mouth, Tucker continued with his tirade.

"Do you have any idea how long, how much coaxing it took to get Hoshi to agree to stay on for this mission? Of course not, because all you can think about is getting in her pants and the pants of every other woman on this ship. Well, ya know what? I'm not going ta put up with it Stu. As much as you are my friend and one of the most brilliant engineers in the fleet … I _**am**__**not**_ going to put up with ya playing Romeo on this ship. So be it Hoshi or Ensign Chambers or whomever you are considering to get with, I do not want to see it. I do not want to hear about it and I certainly _do not_ want to walk into the middle of it. Do I make myself clear, Commander?"

Rybaiski stared at the floor and nodded. He never made eye contact with Tucker; despite that he could feel Trip staring at him. He knew he had totally screwed up and let Tucker down. _So much for my track record as first officer_, he thought to himself. He pushed off from the table, walked over to the window and stared out at the space dock superstructure holding the ship in place.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. I just ….just needed to talk to her, to try to right things with her after all this time." Rybaiski mumbled ruefully without turning around. He shook his head. "I feel crazy when I'm around her, like I'm in love with her."

Tucker stared at the floor and leaned against the end of the table. "Man, you are not in love with Hoshi. You say that about every girl you date…until someone new comes along. At best, you might be in lust with her.

"No I'm serious." Rybaiski turned to look at Trip."I think I'm in love with her."

Tucker started laughing. "Stu, if you were truly in love with Hoshi, you wouldn't have slept with Chambers." He saw a look of protest cross his friend's face. "Nuh- ha don't argue that point with me, I was in the same apartment, remember?"

A sly smile crept across Rybaiski's face. "You think you know me, huh? Shoot, I don't know how you do it Trip. You haven't seen T'Pol in almost a year. How do you deal with no sex? Don't you wake up in the middle of the night and just need some attention?"

"Well, yeah, just because she's my bond mate doesn't mean I'm dead." Tucker replied and snorted out of laugh. "I still have urges, I just channel that into … something else." He couldn't tell Stu about the white space that he and T'Pol shared because he wouldn't understand. Trip himself barely understood it.

"Bond mate," Rybaiski repeated. "What does that mean exactly … are you mated for life like ….like Canadian Geese?"

Tucker laughed aloud at that comment. "Well, I guess that's one way to put it. However it makes sense for you Stu, T'Pol is the only woman I want to be with today, tomorrow, a hundred years from now."

Stu looked at his friend in amazement. "You never want to be with anyone else?" He paused a moment, but didn't let Trip answer. "That seems like a long time to just be with one woman."

Trip shook his head and stood up from the table. "Precisely my point, Stu, if you were truly in love with Hoshi, the spending the rest of your life with _**only**_ her wouldn't be enough time."

Rybaiski nodded with a perplexed expression on his face. He started to walk toward the door. "Are you done with the lecture? My stomach's growling."

Tucker followed his friend to the door. "The lunch special today is lasagna." He paused for a moment before hitting the door control. "I'm serious about the Romeo thing though."

"Yes, sir," Stu replied looking his Captain directly in the eye. "That point is crystal clear."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Personal log, Captain Charles Tucker the Third. Tuesday September 11 2164

_Not even two days into our mission and the ship has suffered multiple system failures. Guess this is what Admiral Stewart meant at the briefing about working the kinks out. Inertial dampers and the gravity plating system are out of alignment and causing the major headaches across the ship. And I don't just mean the physical ship either. Nearly half of Alpha shift is on sick call today with nausea and headaches. I've got Rybaiski and Dempsey down in Engineering trying to isolate the problem. I'm on my way to sickbay to get a report from McCann and to see what he can do for the crew. _

_Commander Gervase, the Denobulian gamma shift Executive Officer is standing bridge watch. He seems a little uneasy up there with all the lights on, but the junior officers are taking to him well. Thank god he's more reserved Phlox and his sex-crazed wife, Feezal. Of course, they may be because Geri is still single. Gervase served with the Denobulian Guard as a Lieutenant on a starship before entering the interspecies officer exchange. He was assigned to security at Starfleet before coming to Phoenix. If I hadn't seen his easy-going side during final construction I'd be worried about his abrasiveness. He's a workaholic and very focused at times … guess that's what happens when ya only sleep six days a year. _

"Computer end recording." Tucker leaned back in his seat and blew a puff of air out of his mouth. He rubbed his fingertips in circles on his temples. His head had been throbbing for hours despite his attempts to relieve it through meditation. _Hopefully Demps and Stu can put a lid on it this morning_, Trip thought to himself. He sat forward and keyed his computer to get a repair status report.

As he stared at the screen, his heart strings tugged at him to go down to engineering and fix the problem himself. He couldn't help to wonder if they had considered all the options, if they had run a diagnostic on the linking systems…or if they'd chez….."Knock it off Tucker, you aren't the chief engineer anymore," Trip blurted out in frustration.

He stood from his desk and walked across the ready room into the head, to take a leak. He fiddled with the jacket of his uniform for what seemed like the nine hundredth time that morning. Starfleet had recently redesigned the uniforms for all shipboard personnel. The new uniform was a two piece ensemble. The slacks were standard issue BDU's. The jacket was a heavier material with a hidden zipper, covered by a placket that hooked near the left shoulder and at the neck. There were gadget pockets on the arms and legs. The uniform was black with the charcoal gray trim on the placket. Department designations were noted by the piping color of the shoulder epaulet: yellow command, red engineering and tactical, blue science.

The new uniform was sharp and professional, which Tucker liked. The collar completely sucked however, it was higher than the jumpsuit and the heavier material simulated a choking sensation on his neck. He had only been wearing the uniform for three days and already had developed an unconscious habit of fiddling with the collar.

Tucker stared at his reflection in the mirror. His neck was red from his continuous rubbing or from the irritation or both. Trip unhooked the eyelet clasp, unbuttoned and unzipped the placket loosening the jacket on his torso. He rested his hands on the sink and leaned against it as the pounding in his head increased. The click of the comm panel in his office startled him.

"Bridge to Captain Tucker."

Trip stepped out of the head and leaned around the corner to key the panel. "Go ahead."

"Sir, you have an incoming transmission from Starbase One," replied the female voice of Ensign Pascale Braidi, the comm officer. "It's Commander T'Pol."

"Route it to the Ready Room, Ensign." Trip replied.

"Aye Sir."

Trip walked back to his desk as his computer terminal sprang to life with T'Pol's image. A smile crept across his face when he saw her. She was sitting in her quarters at the Starbase, wearing the same uniform as he.

"T'hy'la," she tilted her head slightly. "You're distressed."

"Yea, I'm happy to see you too, darlin," he muttered under his breath as he sat down in his chair.

"Are you fatigued?" T'Pol replied. "Have you rested since leaving space dock?"

Trip squirmed in his seat. "No, I…" he took a deep breath. "We've got some glitches that we're working through with the grav plating. Everyone on the ship has been affected in some way, including me."

T'Pol tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps you shzz"

Trip held his hand up to the screen, "Don't say it … I've tried everything…. At least non-medical that is." He sighed. "I think I just need a dose of my girl. Maybe our close proximity is making me edgy."

"Unlikely," T'Pol said. "It would be best if you made a visit to Dr. McCann."

"Yeah, I need to go there anyway and see what he is doing for the rest of the crew." Trip looked at her in silence for a moment and wished he could step into the white space with her. Despite that he was sure it would relieve his headache, he didn't have time to enjoy it as much as he'd like. The ship was nearly falling apart at his feet. He nodded to the screen, "You're looking pretty snazzy in your new uniform."

"Admiral Stewart requested I wear it when he approved my transfer to the ship. He felt it would be best for the uniformity of the crew. I find it rather confining however." T'Pol replied matter-a-factly and unconsciously tugged at her neck.

Tucker laughed when he saw it. "Hmm, not only are we testing the fleet's first Warp 7 engine, but Starfleet is gauging the time it takes to choke officers to death in these new uniforms."

"That would be illogical, T'hy'la." T'Pol replied rolling her eyes at him. "You are imagining the choking sensation."

"I'm imagining it? I saw you tuggin at your neck."

"I was referring to the design of the garment being different from my previous uniform." She stared at him realizing the argument was pointless and the changed the subject. "How long will it be until you arrive at the Starbase?"

Trip shook his head and tapped the edge of a PADD on the desk top. "Well, we're only running at Warp 2 because Engineering is trying to make repairs. We should be able to speed it up in a day or so, but it's going to add some time to the trip. Maybe, five, six days," Trip said. "Make sure you are packed because we'll need to leave right away head out on the next supply run."

"I am already packed," she remarked in her own sarcastic manner. "Admiral Stewart has forwarded the mission briefing and I've reviewed our orders."

"Really?" Tucker questioned her. "So how do I know that we got the same orders?" He thought back to the feeling he had earlier when he thought Stewart hadn't given him all the information. _It would be just like Starfleet to not trust him with the 'real' mission briefing_, he thought to himself.

T'Pol looked at him quizzically. "What orders did you receive?"

Trip looked at her in frustration for a moment. He knew she sensed his distrust of the orders and he could feel her mentally berating him for being paranoid. "My orders are to meet up with Columbia for a supply run."

"As were mine."

"Huh," Tucker grunted as shook his head. _I'm an idiot; _he chided himself when he realized how stupid he sounded. He slumped back in his chair and ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek. "I'm sorry, I just. I don't think we have all the information on the Columbia rendezvous. Like someone doesn't trust us or more specifically me with it."

"Trip, it would be illogical to send Phoenix on any mission and withhold information from you."

"Like that hasn't happened before?"

"Trip, the commanding officer on the ship always has the correct mission briefing from Starfleet."

Trip ran his hand across his brow. "That's just it T'Pol, I'm not the commanding officer of this ship, Admiral Stewart is and when he gave me the run down I felt like he was holding something back." He stood up in frustration and turned to face the window.

"T'hy'la, I know you trust Admiral Stewart. He has faith in you to complete this mission on your own. Perhaps he does not have all the information himself."

Trip came back to the monitor and sat in the chair. "You're probably right. He did say I would get more information when I arrived at the Starbase. I guess I'm a little … edgy. New ship, new mission, Stewart being sidelined, Hoshi and Stu fighting in the hallway, I forgot about all the little parts of runnin the show." He grimaced and rubbed his temples with his fingertips again. "Ok, the last thing I want to do is get into an argument with you because I'm freakin out. I need to get to sick bay and find out if Rybaiski has fixed the system glitch. I'll see you in a week." He extended his fingers toward the screen again. "I love you darlin."

"As do I T'hy'la," T'Pol replied.

Trip stood up from his desk as the screen went to black. He zipped the jacket up and fiddled with the neckline as he headed out of the ready room.

-00-

Gannet Mayweather sat on the biobed and tried to comfort her eighteen month old month old son as he sobbed uncontrollably in her arms. She cursed at her husband under her breath for convincing her into moving out to the Starbase. So far, the trip hadn't been a joy ride. Her son, Noah, was suffering from a fever and an ear infection and she was battling a horrible bout of space sickness. She had taken refuge in sickbay since it seemed like the only place on the ship that offered any respite.

Dr. Zack McCann sat at his work station on the opposite side of the room, seemingly oblivious to the child's cries. McCann was wiry in stature and his spiked sandy blonde hair reminded most of a cartoon character instead of a doctor. McCann's appearance was deceiving though. He held multiple degrees in Medicine, Engineering and Physics. In his most recent assignment, McCann had served at the Earth Embassy on Vulcan.

Like Rybaiski, Zack was a charmer. His warm blue eyes and caring bedside manner melted hearts and won over the most disagreeable patients. Zack even warmed the heart of his life partner and husband, a male Vulcan physician named Solon. They had been together for three years and an Admiral's Privilege allowed them to serve together on Phoenix.

Solon had provided him insight on the Vulcan culture and instructed him in the art of meditation as well, a skill that was proving very handy at this particular moment. McCann tapped a few keys on the computer and scanned the information on the screen quickly. After a few moments he reached across the desk and picked up several vials of liquid and mixed them together, then pushed an ampoule into a hypo-spray.

"Ok, I think I got it," McCann said getting up from his station. He walked over to the biobed where Gannet was rocking her son. "You'll have to excuse me because I haven't treated an ear infection in a while. In fact, I thought someone had eradicated them."

Gannet looked back at the doctor quizzically. "Are you serious?"

McCann glanced at her and smiled. "I could only wish that someone would have eradicated ear infections," he scowled. "Modern medicine has yet to figure out how to rid the galaxy of the common cold." McCann pressed the hypospray to Noah's neck. "This should calm him down," he said running the scanner over Noah again.

"You honestly haven't treated an ear infection lately?" Gannet questioned him, not believing his excuse.

"Yes, I'm serious about not treating one lately. I spent the last few years on Vulcan remember?" he replied walking back to his work station. "Vulcan children rarely get sick. And if they did, they certainly didn't come to me for treatment."

Gannet breathed a sigh of relief as her son relaxed in her arms. "Why not?" she asked, questioning him as a reporter only could.

McCann squirmed in his skin as he listened to the question. "Because Vulcan's only go to Vulcan doctors," he finally answered. "They're really funny about _alien _doctors."

"Solon?" Gannet called to McCann's husband who was attending to Phoenix crewman across the room. "Is that true that Vulcan's only visit Vulcan doctors?"

Solon slowly turned from his patient and eyed McCann and Gannet carefully. "It is true that Vulcan's prefer to be treated by Vulcan physicians," he answered dryly. "However, his statement that Vulcan children are rarely ill is inaccurate. I doubt if Dr. McCann had any opportunities to treat Vulcan children at the Earth Embassy."

"So," McCann interjected as he tried to change the subject. "The treatment I gave Noah is not a cure, but it will keep him comfortable for the next couple of hours." He walked back to the biobed and picked the now quiet child from Gannet's arms. "We've fashioned a bed for Noah in my office and Ensign Chambers has agreed to monitor him for the next few hours so you can get some rest." McCann carried the child into the office and laid him down in the bed.

The doors to the medical bay swooshed open allowing Captain Tucker entry to the room. "Hey Doc!" he yelled out, his voice echoing off the bulkheads.

"Shhh," waved Gannet getting up from the biobed. "Noah's sleeping for the first time in days."

"Oh, sorry" whispered Tucker. "You aren't looking too good Gannet. You feel ok?" Tucker asked.

McCann replied before Gannet had a chance. "In addition to her nerves being spent from dealing with her child all day, she is suffering from the same aliment as everyone else," McCann replied flatly. He pulled a hypospray from his pocket and applied it to Gannet's neck. "Gannet go to your quarters and get some rest," he directed her. "Noah will be fine."

"No, I want to stay here." Gannet stated protectively of her child. She watched Ensign Chambers cover him with a blanket. He looked so peaceful.

"It wasn't a request, Gannet." McCann replied. "You'll sleep much better in your quarters."

"I'm not a member of this crew."

Tucker cut her off before she got any further. "Gannet," his tone was serious and direct. "You aren't doing your son any favors by denying yourself rest. Go to bed. By the time you wake up, everything should be back to normal."

Gannet looked at the Captain and realized how futile it was to argue with him. She walked over to the bed where Noah was sleeping and kissed him on the cheek, then walked out of sickbay.

Tucker watched her go and when the doors of sickbay had closed and she was safely out of earshot, he turned to McCann and commented. "She's as headstrong as ever. I don't know how Mayweather puts up with her."

McCann walked over to the work bar and waved for Tucker to follow. When they were out of Ensign Chambers range, he whispered to Trip, "Captain, you are the last person to be commenting about living with someone who is difficult considering who your have taken as your mate."

Trip leaned against the counter and rubbed his temples with his hand. "Excuse me? In case you forgot, T'Pol and I don't live together." Tucker replied jokingly. "You know, Solon's deadpan delivery is wearing off on you."

"Watch it," McCann scolded him. "He's just around the corner." McCann peered around the corner to check if Solon had heard Tucker's joke. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that Solon had stepped into the head.

Tucker squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to relieve the pressure that was building behind them. "I think you and I would agree that our Vulcan mates are much more agreeable than Gannet has ever been."

McCann picked up a tricorder and scanned Tucker as he replied. "She's just in unfamiliar territory." Zack reviewed the data on the tricorder and looked up at Tucker. "You have a headache."

Tucker opened his eyes and looked at the doctor. "I could have told you that without you scanning me. Can you give me something for it?"

McCann prepared a hypospray and administered it to the Captain's neck. As he pressed the instrument against the skin, he noticed some redness on the skin under Tucker's chin. "Is your uniform still bothering you?"

Tucker reached up and unhooked the clasp. "Yea, I think I'm allergic to the fabric."

McCann stepped closer to the Captain and inspected the skin beneath the clasp.

"Do you agree?"

McCann tilted his head slightly and set the tricorder on the counter. "I can give you some ointment for it, but perhaps you need to visit the quartermaster."

"For what? To be fitted for a flight suit?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a bigger neck size. The collar seems a little snug." McCann said smiling widely.

"What's that supposed to mean? My uniform fits fine." Tucker questioned as he turned toward his friend.

Before Zack had a chance to answer, explosions could be heard from outside of sickbay. The lighting flickered and the ship rocked on its axis, knocking Tucker, McCann and the rest of the medical team to the deck. As Tucker struggled to stand, another explosion threw him to the floor. He crawled to the nearest comm panel and keyed in open for the bridge.

"Tucker to the bridge, report!" he barked into the panel. He could hear Noah Mayweather's frightened cries in the background.

In a few seconds, Gervase responded to the Captain. "We're under attack sir from two unidentified vessels. I need medical assistance up here, I've got injured."

Tucker steadied himself and then helped Chambers to her feet. McCann and Solon were already up and pulling out the med kits. Tucker ran to the door and when it didn't activate, fumbled with the manual over-ride. _This is no way to get over a headache_, he thought as he pushed the door opened and squeezed through the opening.

-00-

Getting to the bridge proved to be more difficult than Tucker had anticipated, the main turbolift ascended two decks and then became jammed as another wave of explosions hit the ship. Tucker and two medics escaped the lift through the emergency hatch and climbed up to the remaining deck through the shaft. Trip braced himself on the service ladder and forced the manual over-ride on the door opening to Deck One. Once the locking mechanism clicked indicating the safety had been disengaged, Tucker and Crewman Kellie pushed the hatch open.

The scene on the bridge was disconcerting as Trip and the medic crawled onto the deck. Smoke and fire were pouring out of blown panels at the science station and the helm. The ensign assigned to helm lay broken and bloodied on the floor. The officer at tactical was dead from a gaping head wound. The other crewmen temporarily assigned to the bridge were frantically attempting to contain the fire and avoid the falling debris which was coming from everywhere as the ship rolled in space.

Ensign Pascale Braidi, the fiery Lebanese Communication Officer, was at her station desperately trying to re-route weapons to her panel. Tucker heard her swear in Arabic as another volley of phaser fire turned the ship over again and he fell to the deck.

"Report!" Tucker yelled out wondering quickly the whereabouts Commander Gervase. Tucker grabbed the leg of the tactical station and after pulling himself upright; he staggered in Braidi's direction. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement near the helm and saw Gervase' struggling to stand, blood running down his face from a severe laceration above his temple.

"Do we have helm control?" Tucker yelled out to anyone who would answer.

"Negative Captain," Gervase choked out and stumbled into the console unable to keep his balance. "The panel is fried. I'm trying to re-route it to ..."

"I've got weapons!" interrupted Braidi as she was enveloped in a cloud of smoke. She began to cough uncontrollably and ducked in her seat as one of the crew sprayed the flames from the panel next to her with the fire extinguisher.

Trip reached the comm panel and punched keys opening the line for Engineering, trying to find someone to get control of the ship. "Fire at will!" he ordered.

"Tucker to Engineering!" There was no response. He repeated the call. "Bridge to Engineering, Engineering respond!" The line was dead.

"Captain, I think I can transfer helm control to the engineering station," called out an Andorian female crewman from the starboard side of the bridge. She crawled over some debris into the open workspace and began tapping the keyboard on the panel.

Tucker stumbled across the bridge to assist with re-routing the helm, surveying the damage in a surreal moment. Time seemed to be standing still. The ship was taking more phaser fire and relays were exploding around him. The room was slowly filling with an eerie grayish green smoke that smelled of death and destruction. Tucker crawled over debris near the science stations as more of the ceiling caved in, striking Gervase in the head and knocking him to the deck. .

The Captain quickly backtracked to reach Gervase, now trapped under the ceiling panels. He pulled him clear on the rubble and inspected the multiple jagged gashes on his head. Crewman Kellie tossed a med kit in his direction, and he grabbed some gauze pads to help control the bleeding.

"Geri, ya with me?" Tucker called to the Commander, as he applied direct pressure to the wound.

"Ya, ah, my head feels like its going to explode though," Gervase responded, grimacing from the taste of blood on his lip.

Tucker pulled Gervase's hand up to replace his on the wound. "Just think of it as getting beaned by the pitcher. Next time, don't forget to duck." Tucker smiled and patted his executive officer on the shoulder as he moved over to help re-route helm control.

"I got altitude control," the female cried out as the ship finally righted itself. Her antennae were standing straight up in her excitement. "Helm control will take a few more minutes."

Tucker reached the panel next to her. "Here, let me help." He tapped a few buttons and then ripped off a panel cover. He reached inside and pulled a connector from its plug, then yanked out a few feet of cord from the wall and reconnected it below the station where the female crewman was standing.

"That worked," she commented tapping keys on the panel. "Helm is on line, sir."

"That outta hold for now." He reached over her head and activated the sensor display tuning it in for navigation. "Ya know how to fly a ship crewman?" Tucker asked not really wanting to hear no for an answer.

The female swallowed hard. Her antennae dipped forward and her hands and voice started shaking. Re-routing a panel was one thing. Flying the ship was another. "I've taken the simulation course," she replied.

"Good," he answered absently mindedly as he scanned another display and tried to fire the impulse engines. The engine engaged on the second try. _Someone must be reading my mind in engineering, _he thought. "Impulse engines are online," he replied quickly. "Get us out of here."

"Aye, sir, I'll try my best," she choked out, her voice cracking.

Tucker heard the hesitation in her voice and put a hand on her shoulder to assure her. "That's all I'm asking, crewman, slow and steady." He stepped around her to the next computer console and brought a sensor display online.

"Captain," Braidi called from the back of the bridge. "I've disabled weapons on the one of the ships. The other has stopped firing. It looks like they're retreating."

"I see," Trip replied viewing the sensor data in front of him. The bridge became hauntingly quiet. He looked over his shoulder to see who was still standing. Crewman Kellie was kneeling over Gervase with a tricorder in her hand. "Kellie, status report?" Tucker asked.

"Markham is unconscious but stable for now. Commander Gervase has a concussion for sure, but the bleeding is stopped," she replied, applying another bandage to the wound.

"What about Simone?" Trip asked motioning to the helm officer lying on the floor. Kellie looked up at him and shook her head.

The Captain took a deep breath and then made visual contact with everyone left standing, Braidi, Kellie, three junior crewmen including the Andorian currently piloting the ship, and the other medic that came up with him from sickbay. He chided himself for not knowing their names. "Anyone else hurt?" He watched as everyone shook their head in response.

"Ok, Kellie, step over here and monitor this sensor display. Let Ensign Braidi know immediately if anything odd shows up." Tucker pointed to the other medic and directed him over to Gervase. "Keep an eye on the injured. Geri, just relax," Tucker commanded knowing damn well that Gervase would try to jump back into the action. Tucker helped Kellie crawl across the debris and called out to Braidi in the process.

"Ensign Braidi, see what you can do about getting emergency communications on line." He looked over at the two remaining male crewmen on the bridge. One was already attempting to engage the exhaust fans of the fire suppression systems from the science station. The other was moving the body at tactical to the floor.

The man looked toward the Captain and anticipated his question. "Crewman Baker and Porter sir, we're rated for tactical."

"Great," Tucker replied feeling relief that the right people were on the bridge. "I need both of you to get down to the Command Center and boot it up. As soon as it's online, we'll move bridge operations down there," Trip said pointing to the forward section of the room.

"Aye, aye sir," Baker replied as he and Porter darted across the bridge and opened the hatch to the half level under the main viewer.

Trip turned back to the computer station in front of him. He pulled a basic engineering status report onto the screen and stared at it for a moment in silence. From the initial report, warp engines and communications were off line, grav plating was disengaged in some parts of the ship and it appeared that life support was damaged on decks five and six. Tucker felt anger boiling in his blood and needed to channel it somewhere.

He stepped over behind his new helmsman and reviewed the navigation display over her shoulder. She was doing an adequate job of directing the ship away from their previous position but they needed somewhere to hide in case their attackers returned. He scanned the information quickly and noticed a series of moons about a parsec away from their current position.

"Head for this moon," he said pointing at the display.

"Aye sir," she replied. After a few seconds she added. "Tori."

The response caught Tucker off guard. "Tori," he repeated somewhat confused.

"It's my name sir. Crewman Tori."

"Ah," Tucker responded and he stepped from behind her. As he did he noticed her department designation was science which surprised him considering how fast she had regained altitude and helm control. "Well, Crewman Tori, great job re-routing the helm."

"Thank you sir."

He was about to ask about her designation when Ensign Braidi informed him she had the emergency internal comm link online. Tucker had developed a rudimentary emergency comm system on Enterprise when they were tracking the Xindi. It was a non verbal system which allowed key areas of the ship (Engineering, Sickbay, Armory and the Bridge) to communicate via instant messaging. The system was separate from the main communication system and was linked to life support. The system on the Phoenix was a little more advanced, but the basic premise was still the same. Trip immediately got to work getting status reports from his department heads.

-00-

Six hours after the initial attack, Tucker met with Dr. McCann, Commander Rybaiski, Ensign Braidi and Lieutenant Dempsey, the Andorian Engineer in the conference room to discuss damage control. Braidi was in attendance for Hoshi, who was injured and restricted to quarters. The bridge capsule and nacelles took the brunt of the attack, and had the most damage. Just seconds before the bridge ceiling collapsed, the crew managed to relocate to the command center and move the injured to sick bay. Sickbay reported thirty six crewmen injured most with minor injuries, four were in critical condition, three were KIA and one junior grade officer was still listed as missing. Commander Gervase was listed in good condition, but confined to sickbay for observation. Miraculously none of the civilian passengers were injured.

Tucker stared out the window in reflection as Ensign Braidi recapped the encounter from the Comm's perspective.

"This is the telemetry from the aft sensor array," she stated and pushed the play button on the monitor. Tucker directed his attention to the screen and watched as two ships came at Phoenix from the nearby asteroid field and began to attack the ship. Their initial fire was concentrated on the bridge and weapon nodes, since the nacelles were protected by the saucer section. Braidi played the recording through in its entirety before she continued speaking. "Sensor data indicates they made no attempt to contact us. They answered our hails with phaser fire."

"Did they just get lucky?" Lieutenant Dempsey tilted his head as he reviewed the data. "It doesn't look like we were out gunned."

"We weren't out gunned by a long shot, but we were unlucky," Tucker said as he walked over to the computer display. "_Very unlucky_." Tucker under his breath in frustration. He keyed up a bridge overview and pointed at the helm. "The first couple of shots overloaded the helm relays. That caused a cascade effect which burned out altitude control, tactical and hull plating. The ship lost control and we rolled over like a dog. That left the nacelles wide open and unprotected."

Trip switched off the display and turned to the team, then nodded in Braidi's direction. "Ensign Braidi was re-routing tactical when I arrived on the bridge. Once we had weapons on line, and we weren't just sitting ducks anymore, the ships retreated."

Rybaiski stood and hit the play button on the monitor and watched the telemetry again. He froze the screen on the best view of their attackers. "Let me get this straight. We were flying along, minding our own business and then were ambushed by these two junkers without provocation?" Rybaiski gave Tucker a perplexed look. "That doesn't make sense. Did we fly into their territory by mistake?"

Ensign Braidi tapped a button on the monitor which split the screen. A star grid popped up on the right side. "No, Commander. According to the star charts and our sensor data, we're at the outer edge of Vulcan space."

"Do we know anything about those ships?" McCann asked speaking from the end of the table.

"Yes." Braidi and Tucker replied in unison. Tucker smiled at the Ensign and motioned for her to continue. Braidi was nervous and it showed on her face.

"I…ah ran both through the data base. This ship matches the Anoree configuration," she stated pointing at the screen. "The other is unidentified."

Dempsey leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Why would the Anoree be over here? Their home world is near the neutral zone."

Tucker leaned against the bulkhead and replied. "I wondered the same until I remembered the Anoree were attending the Diplomatic Conference on Alpha Centurian."

Dempsey tilted his head to the side and his antennae lay back on his head. He stood and walked over to the monitor staring the frame. "I believe this second ship is Naree, the species that shares the Anoree home world."

"Perhaps they are scout ships for the Ambassador," McCann speculated.

"If they are, why would they fire on us?" Dempsey replied turning toward the group. "I hardly remember the Anoree being aggressors."

"You seem to have a lot of information on them, Lieutenant," Rybaiski commented looking over at Dempsey.

"Andoria has some trade agreements with them," Dempsey replied simply.

"Interesting," Tucker said slowly. "But it doesn't answer the question of why." He pushed off from the wall and paced around the room. "Since they don't appear to be in the mood for conversation, I've asked Admiral Archer to investigate while he is attending the conference. In the meantime, what is the repair status?"

Rybaiski picked up a PADD and tapped the display. "Well, we aren't going to have warp drive for a while. We have an EV team repairing the damage to the nacelles as we speak. I'd say six, seven hours before we can test the system again."

Dempsey continued the status report. "I had a damage control team inspect the structural integrity of the bridge capsule. With a little reinforcement and shielding we should be able to move bridge operations back to the capsule end of day tomorrow."

Tucker nodded and looked at the floor. "Don't worry about the bridge right now; we're fine in the Command Center. Our priority needs to be warp drive and our stabilization systems. Down the road we are going to need a back up system in place so this doesn't happen again. The nacelles are going to need reinforced hull plating or some other type of shielding. Let's get her flying and then figure out a work-around for the future. Dismissed."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Admiral Archer sat in his office onboard the Bristol and reviewed the telemetry from the attack on the Phoenix for the fourth time in the past hour. He reached over, shut off the screen and leaned back in his chair chuckling at the irony of it all. He was bored at the conference. He was even certain he had fallen asleep in one of the last workshops he had attended. Then he received the subspace call from Trip. Despite that most of the news wasn't good, Trip needed him to do something. That something was giving him a real purpose for a moment. _Re-engaging my brain_, he contemplated in the darkness of his room.

"Bridge to Admiral Archer."

Jon sat forward and keyed the comm panel on his desk. "Go ahead."

"The Anoree Ambassador has arrived at the airlock. Captain Harvick is escorting him to conference room one."

"Advise him I'll be on my way. Archer out." He replied. _Maybe I will, as soon as I figure out what deck the conference room is on,_ he muttered under his breath. He keyed his computer monitor and brought up a schematic of the ship, located the room he needed and then walked out the door.

-00-

Archer was agitated and edgy in his seat in the conference room. Captain Harvick and CMO Harper of the Bristol were making small talk and exchanging pleasantries with Ambassador Gevale of Anoree and his aide Atar. He stood from the table and walked across the room to pour himself a glass of water. After a few more minutes, he couldn't take it anymore and interjected himself into the conversation.

"Ambassador Gevale, how many ships are in your contingent while you're attending the conference?" Archer asked from the back of the room as he stepped closer to the table.

Captain Harvick turned in his seat and shot the Admiral a perplexed look. He turned his palms up and shrugged slightly questioning the Admiral's bluntness. Gevale appeared confused as well and stammered in his reply.

"We have only one ship at the conference Admiral. Our ships can only travel at warp three. The journey from our planet takes many months; it would not be economical to send more than one vessel."

"Interesting," Archer replied circling the room. "Just one ship, Ambassador? Are you certain?"

Gevale looked quickly from Atar to the CMO and Captain Harvick with a puzzled look on his face. "I don… don't understand what you mean Admiral Archer. I have traveled to Alpha Centari with only one ship."

Harvick stood up from his seat and stepped to the monitor on the wall. _This wasn't the plan_, he thought to himself as he keyed up the telemetry received from Phoenix earlier that day. He glanced over his shoulder at the Admiral waiting for his queue to start the playback. Archer's face was hot with anger and the Captain was sure he saw steam coming from the Admiral's ears. _Ok_, Harvick thought, _maybe I'll just finish this before the Admiral blows a gasket_.

"Earlier today, a Starfleet vessel was attacked without provocation by two alien ships. Starfleet has identified the vessels as ships from the Naree and the Anoree," Captain Harvick remarked flatly.

The Ambassador gasped in surprise and shouted "Impossible! That is a lie. I have told you we have only one ship at the conference and it was in orbit around the planet this morning." As Atar nodded his head in agreement, Harvick and Admiral Archer watched the color drain from his face.

"Perhaps this will jog your memory, Ambassador." Admiral Archer replied blandly.

Harvick pushed the play button and stepped back from the screen. The monitor jumped to life and the telemetry from Phoenix played for the room occupants to view. The two vessels surrounded the ship and began opened fire on Phoenix, first on the saucer section, then the nacelles when the ship lost control and rolled on its axis.

Archer watched the telemetry out of the corner of his eye, keeping the Ambassador's aide in his sight. Atar watched the display, and then began to fidget in his seat nervously. Archer glanced at the CMO and Harvick who both nodded in agreement. Atar knew something even if the Ambassador did not.

"Do you recognize either ship Ambassador?" Captain Harvick asked. He froze the display on the image that captured both ships and then enlarged it for a better view.

The scales on the Ambassador's head lay flat as he reached out for the glass of water sitting in front of him. He took a drink, spilling half the glass on himself in the process. "I… I do not know what to say…I did not know other ships from our world had traveled here," he finally stammered.

Archer stepped around the table until he stood directly across from Atar. He put his hands on the chair in front of him and leaned over the table, glaring at Atar in the process. "Perhaps your aide could enlighten us." Archer retorted as his eyes bore into Atar.

Atar looked at the Ambassador quickly but said nothing. His scales were lying flat on his head as well and turning a slight tinge of purple.

The silence in the room was deafening. Captain Harvick stepped to the end of the table and broke it. "Do you recognize either ship Ambassador?"

Visibly shaken, the Ambassador took a few moments to answer. "I recognize both ships. The Anoree vessel is from my personal fleet. It's assigned to my daughter, Elnora. The Naree ship belongs to her mate, Jarvick." He ran his hand over his head and took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. Gevale turned and stared at Atar imploring the man with his eyes for an answer. When Atar said nothing, Gevale stood from the table and walked to the wall. He leaned against it with his arm and shook his head.

"Admiral, I assure you, I knew nothing of these ships being in this sector. I sincerely hope there was no loss of life from the attack." Gevale said knowing by the destruction on the display death would have been unavoidable.

"Four crewmen were killed and dozens were injured. The ship's data recorders indicated our hails were answered by phaser fire," replied Harvick as he crossed his arms and took a similar stance as the Admiral. _Now I'm getting pissed_, he thought to himself.

Gevale was not surprised by the answer, but had no defense for the attack. "It is unfortunate there was loss of life, however, Admiral Archer, you must understand I knew nothing of this attack or what the motive was…."

Archer was quick to cut off the Ambassador. "I'm certain your aide knows of it. Ask him."

"Admiral, it is not appropriate for you to address my aide directly. In our culture, aides only speak to members of the high family. I will address this matter with him and the commanders of those vessels after I return to my ship. Now if you'll excuse me."

Archer pushed off from the chair. He stepped away in frustration and paced around the room. Captain Harvick stepped to the side to allow Gevale and his aide to pass by and leave the room. After the door had closed behind them, all three men shared a moment of silence and an agreeing glance.

-00-

Ambassador Gevale stormed through the airlock on his ship and walked directly to his quarters, his crewmen diving for cover as he passed. His mood was evident by his explosive mannerisms. . Atar followed in silence. Once inside, he barked out a command to be connected with his daughter immediately. Within a few moments, the connection was complete.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he yelled at her the minute her face appeared.

Elnora's face turned bright purple, "What are you talking about?"

"Firing on a Starfleet vessel?" Elnora started to laugh and sat back on her chair.

"You find this amusing?" he demanded of her.

"In the sense that they are not the formidable opponent they make themselves out to be," she replied flippantly. "It's the most hilarious thing I've seen all year."

"Why did you attack them?"

Elnora took a sip of the beverage sitting next to her and shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't attack them … exactly. I was arguing with Jarvick, I kicked him off my ship days ago, but he came back in an attempt to retrieve the slave and the attendant. " She rolled her eyes. " We got into a battle. The Starfleet ship just happened to fly through the middle of it."

"So you just fired on them?" Gevale stood and began to pace his quarters, face flushed with anger. "What could you possibly be arguing about that would cause a battle of that magnitude?"

"I discovered that he had impregnated the slave."

"He impregnated it?" Gevale implored. "Elnora that is not possible!"

"It is! I have proof now that the Naree are still fertile and compatible with humanoids! Father, Jarvick told me himself that he impregnated the slave. It is humanoid." Elnora replied firmly.

"He could not have impregnated it Elnora ... The Naree are sterile, just as the Anoree. " Gevale replied in a calmer tone, trying to reach his daughter.

"There is no proof of that Father. The slave has already given birth to one Naree seed. That proves the humanoid DNA is compatible with our species."

Gevale shook his head, he was not getting through to his daughter, and at this point, he didn't think he ever would. "Even if that were true my dear, you have put him out of your house. How will we be able to prove it?"

Elnora took another drink of the beverage and smiled at her father smugly. "Don't worry, Father. I have planned this out. I have the slave and it will deliver a healthy seed. Then we will have our proof once and for all that Hybrids are the answer for the salvation of our race."

"Our race?' Gevale grumbled in the background. "It is not the salvation of our race. In one hundred years, our race will be extinct. That is our destiny."

"No Father, you are wrong. Hybrids are our destiny. Mark my words," Elnora answered. She plastered an innocent smile on her face. "Father you have to have faith in science."

Gevale cut the comm line and knocked everything on his desk to the floor. "Hybrids will be the death to us all," he mumbled to no one in particular.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Riley lay on the cold wet floor, trembling under the thin cover she held tightly around herself. In the background, she could hear the frengie master try to lure potential customers to his stand. She was nauseous, feverish and her eyes throbbed from a searing headache. Another dancer had convinced the master to let Riley rest tonight instead of standing on the block and she was grateful he complied. She was a favorite with the master's customers because of her exotic looks. She was human in a land where humans didn't exist. She had long red hair and crystal green eyes. Her skin was pale and alluring. She was slim, yet muscular and could handle herself with a difficult customer. Riley brought in a lot of profit for the frengie and her health was of importance to him, although he tried to act as if it wasn't.

A jab to her side woke her instantly. The master was standing above her with an impatient look on his face. "Get up, it's time to go," he growled at her.

Riley looked around for her friend, but did not see her. "Where's Ichara?"

"She's on a job, earning her keep tonight, which is more than I can say for you. Get moving."

Riley stumbled to her feet and got in line behind his other dancers. The master fastened the wrist restraint to her and attached it to the female in front of her. The restraint really wasn't necessary as far as she was concerned. Yes, the frengie owned her, but what better alternative did she have? At least he ensured that she had a safe place to sleep, clothes to wear and food. She heard the stories from the other dancers about murders occurring on the lower levels after nightfall. _Night fall_, Riley chuckled to herself. What was the difference between night and day on an Outpost that rotates in space? In any event, her life with the frengie was better than any life she lived lately, so the occasional inconvenience of being tethered to another was minor in the grand scheme of things.

The loud crack of the frengie's whip startled Riley from her thoughts. The line started moving and Riley fell into place at the end for the walk back to the holding area where the frengie kept them. The line stopped twice as Master made a deal with a late patron and released a dancer from the line. Riley kept her head down, hair covered with a scarf, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. All she could think about was lying down on her bunk and falling asleep. The Outpost rules stated that no commerce on the promenade after closing yet the holding area was a different story. It was on the dark side of the Outpost, where all the illicit activity took place. It was open for business twenty-six hours a day.

"Hey watch it!" growled an Orion slave girl as Riley stumbled into her. The line had stopped again. Riley kept her head and eyes down, not wanting to attract attention. She could hear the Master arguing with a customer and she was sure it had to do with her.

"How much for the one of the end?"

"She isn't available for dancing tonight. I have others on a special deal… two for the price of one?"

"I want the one on the end. How much? I'll pay you triple."

Before Riley had anything to say about it, the Master had unclipped her from the line and handed her over to the alien standing in front of her. Master winked at her and whispered "profit" in her ear before leading the rest of the line away.

Riley had never seen this species of alien. He was a tall male, with an odd round head. His face, hands and arms were covered in scales. He towered over her and walked with a slight limp. "My name is Gowan. My room is this way," he grumbled towards her and then turned and led the way. His voice sounded old, but strong. She followed behind him, still dreaming about her warm bunk. It would be days before she got back to it now.

He stopped in front of a door, and fumbled with the lock for several minutes, cursing in a language she never heard. The door finally sprung open and revealed the primitive outpost lodging, a simple room with a cot and a chair. Riley walked in and stood in the middle of the room looking at him. Gowan walked around her in a circle and then stopped and stared at her face very closely. A blast of rotten breath hit her square in the face and her eyes started to water.

"What species are you?" he grumbled, still peering closely at her.

"I'm Human." She replied, trying very hard not to back up.

"I've never heard of them! What planet do you come from?"

"Earth"

"I've never heard of that either."

"It's very far from here."

"Must be, since I've been everywhere around here and I've never heard of it. Unless you are making it up… you dancers do that from time to time."

Riley felt the tears in her eyes. Many aliens she encountered thought she was lying when she talked about Earth because they had never heard of it. Sometimes she didn't believe herself either since she hadn't seen another Human in over four years, ever since that fateful day when raiders attacked the freighter she lived on with her family. She often wondered what happened to her mom and her brother after the raid. They were below deck, so maybe they were safe. She was with her father near the bridge when the raiders attacked. She knew her father was dead, killed by the Nausican that pulled her from his arms and dragged her onto his ship.

"….. Medicine after you dance for me."

Riley shook her head pulling her attention back to the dirty room she was in with the alien. She felt a tear running down her face and wiped it away quickly before the alien turned back to face her.

"What did you say, I didn't understand?" Riley stammered out to him, her voice trembling. She hated it when she became emotional because it left her vulnerable.

Gowan turned and looked at her. "I said I can give you some medicine after you dance for me. I have something that will make you feel better, unless you enjoy being sick. "

Riley knew better than to trust anyone making empty promises. How many times in the days after she was captured were promises made but never kept. If you do this, I'll take you home, I'll give you food, or I'll let you go. After none of those promises ever materialized, she learned her lesson about trusting anyone, including Master who had promised Ichara that he wouldn't put her on a job tonight.

"Why don't you give me the medicine now? Then I can give you a special treat." Riley tilted her head to the side and started twirling her hair around her finger.

Gowan looked at her and shook his head. "I can't, it will make you sleepy. I wouldn't get my money's worth out of you." He walked over to the chair and sat down. "Whenever you are ready to begin," he said blandly and pulled at his trousers, exposing his organ to her view.

The bluntness of his actions repulsed her. She took a few deep breaths and reminded herself why she needed to do this. Then she removed the shift she was wearing to reveal her "uniform" – a bra and a G-string. She took two steps toward him and stopped with her feet shoulder width apart. Then she started to move her hands lightly over her body, across and under her breasts, down the sides of her torso, and down towards her hips. She reversed the movement, moving her hands up her torso, to the back of her neck and pulling her hair up, off her neck. When she moved her hand over her head, she squeezed the piece of metal clipped to her ear. A handy little device she and Ichara had picked up from one of their previous owners.

It appeared to be a simple earring, however it was much more. He designed it to be a tracking device, with a homing signal – so they wouldn't be able to escape from him when they were out on a job. It was also a universal translator. The first aliens that Riley was in contact with after her capture had dealings with Humans, and understood the language, but as she was sold as a slave and transported farther into space, that was no longer the case. No one could understand anything she said nor could she understand them. She learned some languages out of necessity, but in her line of "work", no one really needed to or wanted to take the time to learn English.

The other benefit of her "earring" was that it stimulated the "euphoria" sensory nodes in her brain and gave her a rush a pleasure to "assist" her in performing her duties. Her owner had designed it for them after one of his customers had nearly beat Riley to death in the throws of passion. One man's pleasure certainly can be another man's pain and in Riley's case, being unwilling and unable to communicate would have certainly cost her life.

As the sensation of warmth and pleasure flooded over her, Riley moved closer to Gowan. Her mind slipped back to days of her childhood running freely in the fields near her family's home in Iowa, sitting on the banks of the Mississippi river fishing. She moved over Gown's body and he put his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him. The friction of their bodies against each other ran in time with the music in her head.

As she went about her dance routine, she thought she heard her mother call her name. Like an echo in the hills, reverberating through a canyon, but clearly English and clearly understandable to her. Riley heard the voice again and thought it was closer now, like nearly right behind her. She pulled away from Gowan and turned her head towards the voice.

In her attempt to hear the voices behind her, Riley smacked her head on something hard. Reality set in quickly as she realized where she was and how she got there. _I'm in a pod … I escaped from that bitch, _she reminded herself as she stared blindly at the wall. _I don't know how to steer, _she added as she became conscious of the pod's orientation. After ejecting into space, the pod had tumbled out of control and was currently drifting upside down._ It doesn't matter anyway, _she thought as she tried to wipe the drool from her lip.

She crawled over to look at the chronometer to see how long she had been drifting in space. Seventy-three hours. _That can't be right_, she thought. She tried to blink her eyes to focus better, but her swollen lids weren't cooperating. She reached up, rubbed them and strained to look at it again, but the reading was the same, she had been out here for three days.

She rolled over on her side and curled up in pain. Her stomach was burning from the incision in her belly and the makeshift stitches that were holding her together. She was feverish and nauseous. She picked up the water ration pack and shook it to see if there was anything left in it. A single drop fell on to her lips. She licked it off slowly with her tongue and rolled over onto her back. Her face throbbed from the cuts and bruises that decorated it.

Riley lay on the ceiling of the pod clutching her stomach and breathing slowly to control the pain. She closed her eyes thinking back to the events that led up to her being here. Captured by Jarvick in an attack on her former owner, and taken as a surrogate for his mate. Other slaves had told her they were unable to bear a seed on their own and needed a surrogate to conceive. Jarvick mated with Riley multiple times with no viable offspring. Then six months ago, Jarvick's mate, Elnora acquired a male attendant with whom Riley was very attracted too.

His name was Renauld. He was a Denari, a humanoid species that was very similar to Humans. Renauld was handsome with dark hair and purple eyes. He was friendly and sweet, reminding Riley of an older boy she had a crush on from her family's freighter. The first time Riley caught site of Renauld on Elnora's ship, her breath caught in her throat and she thought her heart would burst out of her chest from excitement. One magical encounter was all it took Riley to conceive. Her pregnancy was dangerous and had to be hidden from her owners at all costs. If Elnora was to find out, she would take the child and Riley would never see it again.

Three days ago, the unthinkable occurred. Glimpses of the horror she endured plagued her dreams …two of Elnora's guards cornering her in the cargo bay and beating her repeatedly until her will was broken and she blacked out. The searing pain of her belly being ripped open and the warm feeling of her blood and guts oozing out. The next memory that filled her mind was of other slaves, her friends, frantically trying to stop the bleeding and put her battered body back together. Echoes of their whispers that the mistress was going to kill her rang in Riley's ears.

Riley took a deep breath and tried to push the memory of those events away. _How stupid I was for thinking I could hide the pregnancy from her at all! _She berated herself. She laughed aloud at the irony, that someone could think suffocating in an escape pod would be safer than bleeding to death on a cargo bay floor. _It doesn't matter anyway_, she thought to herself. As far as she was concerned, she was already dead. Her lifeblood sucked out of her by the conditions she had lived in the past four years, the atrocities she was forced to endure as her dignity and self-respect was stripped from her.

As morbid as it sounded, Riley was actually looking forward to spending her final few hours by herself and prayed silently that no one would find her. At least then, her last dying breath would be alone in the comfort of her own memories of a life that she often had difficulty believing existed.

Of course, she would never be that fortunate. It would just be her luck that another ship would reel in the pod, nurse her back to health and start the vicious cycle of slavery all over again.

After several minutes of crazed thoughts running through her head, Riley pinched her earring in an attempt to shut her mind off. She fell into a fitful sleep of childhood memories.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Bond speak between Trip and T'Pol is in italics. (However, so are unspoken random thoughts by various crew ... you'll be able to figure it out). Adult content is included in this chapter.

Chapter 7

Tucker stepped through the door in Engineering on the main deck and took a deep breath, the aroma of the engine, the grime and bi-products of its components assaulting his senses and triggering his euphoria nodes. A comforting splash of pleasure ran through his veins and put a smile on his face. _God I miss this_, he thought to himself as he took in the smells and the sights of the room.

"Looking for me, Cap'n?" Rybaiski called to the Captain from the second story catwalk. He leaned over the railing, gawking at Tucker.

Trip jumped slightly before responding to Rybaiski. "Geezus, don't you know better than to sneak up on a guy?" Trip answered peering up at the Commander.

Stu chuckled aloud and then stepped into the lift, descending to the main deck. He continued his conversation before the lift stopped moving. "Didn't they teach us at the academy to be aware of our surroundings at all times? What are you doing down here? Homesick already?"

Tucker shrugged his shoulders and looked at his friend. "I don't know, maybe … it just seems like things were a lot less complicated when all I had to worry about was the engine. Not even three days out of the box and I broke the damn ship." He dropped his hands to his side in frustration.

Stu put his hand on Tuckers shoulder corralling him out of the main doorway and into the Chief Engineer's Office. "You didn't break the ship. They attacked us; we didn't go looking for a fight. You couldn't avoid it," Stu said in a supportive attempt to comfort his friend. "I seem to remember you saying Cap'n Archer broke Enterprise a few times during her first year … its all part of giving the ship that homey feeling."

Tucker eyeballed his friend. "Homey feeling huh?"

Stu leaned back against his desk and looked at a spot just beyond Tucker's head. "Sir, with all due respect, it's my job as acting first officer to blow smoke up your ass and make you feel better."

Trip smirked a little and looked at his friend. He leaned against the wall. He wanted to laugh at Stu's comment but the reality of the situation wasn't really that funny. "I wish it were that simple. I just came from sick bay."

Rybaiski didn't like the tone of his voice. "What it is? You aren't looking so good."

Tucker paced around the small office and for a moment appreciated that the room had four walls and a door, as opposed to his little corner next to the service lift on Enterprise. "Damage control team working down by Waste Reclamation found Lieutenant Madison's body, looks like he was killed when a conduit ruptured. That takes the death toll to five." Trip took a deep breath and blew it out slowly crossing his arms at his chest. "Not exactly the way I wanted to start my first mission."

Stu stared at the floor in silence for a moment, then without looking up replied to Trip. "Mine either. Trip, I meant what I said. There wasn't a damn thing we could do about it. Not everybody we run into out here is going to be friendly." He finally looked up at Tucker. "Have you heard from the Admiral?"

Trip nodded. "He sent a sub-space message this morning." He pursed his lips before continuing. "The Anoree ship is from the Ambassador's personal fleet and is assigned to his daughter. The other ship belongs to his son-in-law. The Ambassador said he wasn't aware of his ships being in this sector or for what reason. Archer thinks he is telling the truth for the most part. He's certain his aide knows something more. Archer and Harvick are still investigating and will update us as soon as they have something."

Rybaiski pushed off from the desk, "Can't we go kick their asses?" He smiled at Tucker.

Trip looked at Rybaiski and replied, "We could, if you could figure out how to get this boat sailing faster than warp two."

"You can't be satisfied can you? Give a guy a little speed and he gets all spoiled. There is nothing wrong with flying around at warp two Cap'n; the freighter authority has been doing it for years." Stu replied with a smile on his face.

Trip walked to the door of the office and opened it. He turned back to Rybaiski and smirked. Stu always knew how to put a humorous spin on any situation. "Yeah, well the freighter authority doesn't have to be anywhere important in a hurry. If you don't figure out how to get this buggy flying faster than warp two by days end, I'm going to come down and fix it myself."

"Is that a threat?" Stu guffawed. "Don't start that _I designed this engine_crap brotha. You just need to go back to the bridge and do whatever it is you Captain types do … Dempsey and I have it handled down here."

00-00

Rybaiski and Dempsey may have had engineering covered, but nobody was prepared for the surprise that Lieutenant Sato found floating in space during her bridge watch.

"Status Report," Trip asked from Hoshi as he and Rybaiski marched into the makeshift bridge in the Command Center. Tucker walked to the side of the workbar where Hoshi was standing. Rybaiski slid into a workstation and began to review the sensor readouts.

Lieutenant Sato face twisted in a perplexed expression as she stared at the sensor data on the monitor in front of her. Hoshi brought the visual up on the main viewer. A few hundred miles from the ship, floating alone in space was a metallic escape pod.

"We picked it up on scanners a few minutes ago and dropped out of warp for a second look. I scanned it and ….." she stated as she gave Tucker the report.

"It's an escape pod!" Stu interrupted.

Hoshi paused mid-sentence and rolled her eyes. "_**Thank you**_ Commander," she retorted sarcastically. "That much is obvious." She glanced over in his direction with a glare that could have melted ice.

Tucker felt the air thicken in the room as the bridge crew took notice of her tone. He glanced at Rybaiski for a moment trying to catch his eye … to fire a warning shot, but the Commander never looked up.

"As I was saying, Captain, I ran the hull configuration against the database. There are no known matches. One bio-signature appears humanoid. I suggest transport…."

"I'm reading a humanoid life sign!" Rybaiski interjected from across the room. "I suggest immediate transport to si….."

"**Commander**!" Trip yelled a little louder than he intended and turned toward the workstation where his acting first officer was sitting. Rybaiski was tapping away at the sensor panel on the console, oblivious to the rest of the room.

Rybaiski looked up from the console wide eyed completely caught off guard. He glanced from Sato to Tucker. Both were staring at him with a perplexed expression on their faces. In fact, the entire bridge crew was staring at him. The Captain's eyebrows were furrowed and he was making the 'zip it' motion with his hand across his face. "Sir, did I miss something?" Rybaiski asked.

Tucker rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders with his palms facing up in a frustrated attempt to get through to Rybaiski that he was … being a jerk. "Yes Commander. Lieutenant Sato, who by the way was on bridge watch when the escape pod was found, was giving me the status report," Tucker replied enunciating every word. He glared at Rybaiski for another second and the gestured toward Hoshi. "Lieutenant, please continue."

Hoshi stared in Rybaiski's direction pursing her lips. "As I was saying, Captain, I suggest we transport directly to sickbay." She pointed her hand at Rybaiski, relucantly agreeing with him.

Tucker nodded his head, One of Phoenix's new capabilities was the ability to transport patients directly to a small transporter pad in sickbay. "I agree." He keyed the comm panel for security and sickbay. "Tucker to Security, have a detail report to sickbay immediately. Bridge to Sickbay, prepare for incoming transport." He closed the comm line, "Crewmen Tori, execute the beam out and then tractor the pod into the shuttle bay. "

"Aye, sir," Tori responded from the engineering station. Her hands flew over the controls, completing both orders quickly and efficiently.

Trip watched the screen as the tractor pulse grabbed onto the pod and pulled it into the shuttle bay. "Hoshi, you and Tori analyze the pod. I want a report in an hour."

"Yes sir," Sato replied stepping away from her console. She walked toward the starboard service corridor and paused a moment, while Crewman Tori transferred sensor data to a PADD.

Commander Rybaiski watched as she stood there and then called out to her. "Need any help Lieutenant?" He gave her a big cheesy smile.

Hoshi pursed her lips again and refused to look in his direction. _He did not just ask me that, _she thought as she watched Tori upload the data onto the PADD. "No thank you Commander. I'm quite certain Tori and I can handle it on our own," she retorted.

Without moving her head, Tori arched her brow, dipped her antennae and made a quick assessment of the room. Ensign Sullivan, at the pseudo- helm, Crewman Baker and Porter at the diagnostic wall and Ensign Braidi at the Comm were all pretending to be completely engrossed in their consoles, Rybaiski was gloating in his seat and the Captain … well, he looked like he was about to kill the Commander. Tori finished the upload and walked into the service corridor grabbing Sato by the sleeve and pulling her away from any further confrontation in the process.

Tucker's patience with Rybaiski was waning. In an attempt to cover his displeasure with the First Officer, he starting tapping on the keyboard in front of him and peered at the sensor data on the console monitor. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Sato and Tori clear the command center.

"Mr. Porter," Trip called out. "Scan the area for any vessels, debris or additional pods … I don't want anymore surprises showing up at our door." He heard Porter acknowledge the order and slide across the work bar to complete the scan. Tucker stepped back and looked around the room. Rybaiski was still reviewing data at the workstation.

"Ensign Sullivan, resume our previous course. Ensign Braidi, you have the bridge. I'll be in my ready room." Tucker stated and then walked to the stairs on the port side of the Command Center that led to the access hatch. He glanced in Stu's direction while he ascended the stairs trying to catch his attention. When Rybaiski finally looked up, Tucker tilted his head to the right, motioning to join him.

00-00

Trip was sitting at his desk when the Commander finally entered the ready room. He watched Rybaiski cross the room and sit in the chair by his desk. Stu began to give a status report of whatever he had been doing in the command center, but Tucker wasn't listening. Instead he was lost in his thoughts … trying to reason why Stu continued to antagonize Hoshi and how the hell he was going to put an end to it.

"I was running a scan of the area before you called me in here, I didn't see anything," Stu said as he took the seat across from Tucker. 'No debris, no ship, no sign of another pod." He looked Trip when he didn't respond and noticed the far off look on his face. "Are you meditating or something?"

Tucker looked away and sighed. "No, I was just thinking," he replied and then stood and walked to the window. He stared at the star field in silence, trying to decide how to tactfully deliver his message. He ran his hand across his forehead and face and ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek. "We need to talk about something," he said quietly with his back to the commander.

Rybaiski darted his eyes around at the door and then to Tucker in confusion. "Okay," he replied hesitantly. "What's that?"

Tucker turned around, crossed his arms at his chest and leaned against the windowsill. "This thing between you and Hoshi … you need to get it in check."

"What thing?" Stu sat back with a puzzled expression on his face. "What are you talking about? I haven't spoken to her since we left space dock."

Tucker stared at his friend in disbelief. Either Stu was suffering from a memory lapse or just didn't get it, he wasn't sure. _How do I tell him to stop being a jerk when he doesn't even get it? _

"I'm not talking about a casual conversation, Stu … I'm talking about undermining her authority on the bridge."

"What? I didn't undermine her authority," Stu replied defensively.

"Interrupting her during the status report, calling out sensor data … you don't think that falls into the category of undermining her authority?" Tucker shifted the weight on his feet.

"Ack.... I was reading the sensor data aloud, that hardly falls into the disrespect category." Stu retorted.

"Yes it does, especially when you are being an ass about it." Tucker replied matter-of-factly. "Would you have done it if Gervase had been giving me the sit- rep?"

Stu shook his head in disbelief and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, maybe, maybe not. Even if I did, we hold the same rank, so I doubt if he would be bent out of shape about it."

Tucker felt his blood pressure rise and his face flush with anger. He paced over to the desk and tapped his finger on the back of the chair. "This isn't about rank, Commander. It wasn't just Hoshi that took notice of the commentary," he said tersely. "The entire bridge crew was acutely aware of the tension between you."

Stu continued to stare at the captain with a perplexed expression carved on his face. He shrugged his shoulders and hmm hawed under his breath out of frustration. "Are you serious? Just because I blurted out some sensor data while she was talking?" He shook his head and looked down at the floor. "Give me a break. Geezus, you're starting to sound like Stewart."

"I'll take that as a compliment. However, you need to get it in check Stu because people are noticing," Tucker replied. "It's not personal anymore; you are compromising her credibility by not giving her the respect she deserves."

Stu continued to cast his eyes downward while formulating his response. Before he could say anything, Ensign Braidi buzzed in on the comm.

"Bridge to Captain Tucker."

Trip took a deep breath and leaned over to key the comm panel on the wall. "Tucker here," he said with irritation in his voice.

"Sir, we just picked up the Anoree vessel tracking our position."

Aggravation washed over Tucker's face. "Geezus, now what?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Report," Tucker barked out as he ran down the stairs to the Command Center. He took his position at the work bar in the center of the room. Rybaiski crossed the space heading toward 'his' workstation. He sat down and immediately started tapping the keys on the console.

Ensign Braidi eyed the Commander warily as he crossed in front of her. When she failed to give the status report, Tucker turned and looked at her quizzically. Braidi shot another glance in Rybaiski's direction before she began the bullet.

"Sorry sir," Braidi said looking back toward the Captain. "As soon as they came into sensor range I tried hailing them. There was no response. Their weapons don't appear to be running hot either."

Tucker felt a twinge of another headache coming on and rubbed his hand across his forehead. He crossed his arms at his chest and directed the image to be put on the main viewer. As he watched the Anoree ship fly parallel to their position, Trip leaned against the counter and massaged his temple slightly. _Think you're so secretive? Two can play this tracking game,_ Trip thought as he stared at the screen.

Forty-five minutes later, the activity in the Command Center hadn't changed. Braidi and Baker were still tracking the Anoree vessel's movement. Commander Rybaiski had run diagnostics on nearly every engineering system and conversed with Dempsey on the status of repairs. Tucker sat at the work bar staring at the computer monitor in front of him.

For all practical purposes, that's what the Captain appeared to be doing. Tucker, however, had slipped into the 'white space' and was spending a moment with his mate.

"_You're tense, T'hy'la," T'Pol cooed at her mate softly as she stimulated pressure points in his neck. _

"_Hmmm, darlin, that is an understatement," Trip replied. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the pressure from her fingertips. He took a deep breath and sighed. _

"_I just needed a moment alone with you, before real life started in on me again."_

_T'Pol moved closer to her mate gently brushing her lips across his neck. He turned his head to the side, and loosened his uniform jacket allowing her access to his neck and shoulders. She covered his exposed skin with her light touch and kisses all the while manipulating his trigger point at the base of his skull. As euphoria washed over him, his headache went out with the tide, leaving him with an aching desire to be closer to his mate. _

Tucker shifted his weight in the chair and quickly scanned the room. The chirping of the sensor displays and Rybaiski's muffled voice in the background were the only sounds. The rest of the bridge staff were busy monitoring their displays and not paying attention to him. Trip tapped the keyboard changing the display in front of him and slumped slightly in his seat, pretending to study the data.

"_In the mood for a quickie?" Trip asked her with a sly grin on his face. _

"_Do you think that is appropriate?" T'Pol questioned as she resumed her neuro-pressure activities. "Aren't you on the bridge?"_

"_I'm in the Command Center," he countered as if that made any difference. "The bridge is out of commission."_

"_And the bridge staff …. Are they not in the Command Center with you?" T'Pol questioned. _

"_They are, but all is quiet right now. They are all staring at their monitors, I just checked. Scouts honor," he said holding two fingers at his heart. If I need to go back I can." He turned to face her and pulled her into his arms. "I just need to have you close to me for a moment; even if it is only a few seconds." _

_Their lips connected and he gently probed her mouth with his tongue. He ran his finger over the edge of her ear and gently rubbed the tip of it. She moaned quietly and he began to fumble with her uniform top. After a few moments the jacket zipper gave away revealing her bare breasts to him. He chuckled at the sight. _

"_Commander," he commented as he gazed at her firm breasts. "I believe you are out of uniform. You seem to be missing your under garments." He looked into her eyes as she cocked an eyebrow at him. _

_T'Pol pulled his head to her breast and leaned her head back as he took her nipple into his mouth. The warm sensation of his tongue flicking over her nipple and the gentle nibbles aroused the desire in her. She arched her back and lay back on to the floor pulling him closer and forcing his organ against her mound. _

_He rubbed against her as he gently teased her breast, his organ getting harder by the second. After a few seconds, he sat back on his haunches and undid his pants. He made a mental note about the convenience factor of a two-piece uniform as he pulled his throbbing hard-on from its confines. Once his energy was exposed, it stood erect in front of T'Pol's face. _

_She leaned over and took it in her mouth, covering it with hot wet kisses and salvia. As she ran her tongue across the shaft and over the tip, she worked a pressure point in his groin with one hand and gently stroked the shaft with the other. While she was working her magic, Trip fondled her breast and applied pressure to the back of her neck, gently bringing her closer to his body. _

_The rhythmic motion brought him to a climax quickly. As he exploded in her mouth, he whispered her name and again pushed T'Pol closer to him. After a few seconds, he pulled himself away and sat back in a kneeling position. He took a deep breath and noted that for the first time in days, he didn't have a headache. _

"_Whew… I think that was just what the doctor ordered." Trip mumbled rolling his head to the side. He locked eyes with T'Pol and let the silence speak for itself. _

"McCann to Captain Tucker, please report to sickbay."

_Trip jumped slightly when the comm line opened and out of habit, started to fumble with his uniform. _

_T'Pol stood up and extended her hand to her mate. "So much for basking in the afterglow," she replied deadpan. _

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Commander Gervase sat on a biobed in sickbay waiting impatiently for Dr. McCann to give the 'OK' for his return to duty. Sergeant Melanie Montag was working the security detail in sickbay and stood just inside the door. Ensign Chambers, Solon and McCann were busy reviewing the scans taken from the real patient, the occupant of the escape pod, and were attempting to ignore the grumbling Commander.

"Come on Doc, I haven't had a headache in over four hours," Gervase complained in the background. "Doc, are you listening to me or am I talking to myself?"

"You're talking to yourself," McCann answering without taking his eyes from the monitor.

Gervase unclipped his jacket and unzipped the top revealing a white t-shirt. He jumped off the table and paced around the room in mild frustration.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath and then looked in the direction of Montag when he heard her muffled laughter.

"You find that funny?" He asked.

Melanie nodded her head and laughed, her ponytail swinging just above her shoulders. She and Gervase were pals from Mulligan's during the final stages of the Phoenix construction and their relationship was a little more casual then the rest of the MACO's. "Yeah, you're whining more than mini- Mayweather!"

"Mini-Mayweather?" Gervase questioned her.

"Noah Mayweather …you know, Commander Mayweather's son?" Montag reminded him

"Whatever," Gervase replied shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "I feel useless." He paced around a few more seconds and groaned loudly. "Doc! Come on, let's be realistic …my next sleep cycle doesn't happen for another six months. I feel like I've had enough rest for all of the crew."

"All of the crew did not have the bridge ceiling fall of their head," replied Solon emotionless while he tapped the monitor at his workstation.

Gervase turned to protest once again when the sickbay doors whooshed open and Captain Tucker walked through.

Tucker nodded toward Melanie as he walked into sickbay, and noticed Gervase standing on the opposite side of the room.

"Did you come down here to spring me, Cap'in?" Gervase asked with a hopeful expression on his face.

Tucker looked at him quizzically. "Spring you? Are you handcuffed to that bed or something?" Trip replied shrugging his shoulders. "As far as I know you can leave sickbay anytime you want."

The Captain's response drew a chuckle from the most of the sick bay occupants. Gervase leaned against the counter in defeat. "Yeah well that doesn't get me back on duty," he mumbled in defiance.

Tucker smirked and walked toward McCann. "Is Mr. Gervase bugging you Doc?"

"Yes, please find something for him to do," McCann whispered.

"Is he cleared for duty?"

"If it will stop his whining …then yes, I have real patients to attend." McCann replied quietly and handed Tucker a PADD summarizing the condition of the escape pod patient.

Tucker took the PADD and walked toward the biobed. The patient was female. She appeared young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen earth years. Her red hair was matted with blood and her face was swollen, covered in bruises and cuts. He glanced at the monitor above her head and reviewed her vital signs.

"She's just a kid," he commented aloud and looked toward McCann. "Give me the bullet."

McCann sighed slightly and brought the large monitor above the Imaging Chamber to life.

"She has defensive wounds on her arms and hands," McCann stated and directed the Captain's gaze to the monitor. "She has a concussion and facial injuries... her cheekbones are crushed, her nose and jaw are broken." He moved the pointer on the monitor and enlarged the thoracic region. "The left arm is completely mangled most likely from defending herself in the attack. She has crushed ribs, a broken sternum, and multiple internal injuries. She was unconscious when she was transported. I have her on medication to keep her under so the body can start repairing itself."

Gervase stepped over to the biobed and looked at the female himself. "She looks like someone used her as a punching bag."

"Unfortunately, they did it a little more than that," replied McCann. He moved the drape covering her midsection and revealed a grisly jagged incision across the stomach of the patient. Tucker and Gervase both flinched when they saw it. "Someone with rudimentary medical skills attempted to patch her up; otherwise she would have certainly bled to death. One other thing you should know, based on the information from the scans, she has recently given birth, or better stated, had a child forcibly taken from her."

_Just when I thought my headache was gone, _Tucker ran his hand across his brow and crossed his arms at his chest. "Forcibly?" He repeated absent-mindedly trying to absorb all the information McCann was throwing at him. None of this was making sense. A young female with the crap beat out of her jettisoned into space alone, baby snatching, _god only knows what else we're going to find, _Trip thought to himself.

"It is hard to estimate since we don't have any information on the offspring or her mate, however, our scan indicates the fetus was 22 weeks," McCann continued to rattle off, oblivious of the Captain's confusion. "With interspecies mating, it's possible the gestation period was complete, but for a human, no," He paused for a moment, and then added, "She put up one hell of a fight. She didn't willingly let someone take her child."

Tucker nodded, staring at the female on the biobed. He walked to the computer monitor and scanned the data on the screen. In the distance, he heard Gervase and McCann discussing marks on the patient's arms but didn't pay much attention to it. He reviewed the data quickly and then tapped the display to move to the next page.

The first category on page two jumped off the monitor in his face. Species: Human. Tucker scanned past it for a moment, and then looked to his right at the female lying on the bed. She looked humanoid. _Wait a second, _he thought. _Did I read that wrong? _He looked back at the top of the screen. Species: Human. He stared at the screen in disbelief.

"Doc, there must be a typo on this page," Tucker said looking back at McCann. "You have the species listed as human."

McCann looked up from the end of the biobed where he was standing with Gervase. "It's not a mistake," he replied flatly. "She is human."

"Excuse me?" Tucker retorted and turned completely around to face him. One of McCann's downfalls was he constantly forgot important details when giving his reports. He would tell the why and how, but never mention the what or add it at the end as an after-thought.

The burning glare emanating from the Captain was a quick reminder to McCann that he should have divulged that fact immediately. He stammered out a reply. "I ahh, was getting to that sir." He replied quickly. "I ran the scan twice to be sure. She is definitely human."

Gervase' looked at McCann in bewilderment. "Are you certain? There are other species out here that are similar …"

McCann shook his head and stepped past Tucker to the monitor. "She is definitely human, as much as you or I or … most of the rest of the room," he said waving his arm around defensively.

Gervase rolled his eyes in response to McCann's comment. Trip caught the gesture out of the corner of his eye. He glared at the Gervase for a moment and then turned his attention to the doctor who was talking a mile a minute next to him. Nervous rambling was another of McCann's annoying habits.

"…Ran her DNA through the Starfleet Medical database, there were no matches, however, there was a partial match to an assistant engineer serving with the freighter authority."

McCann's statement got Tucker's attention and he tilted his head to the side as he read the information on the screen.

"Freighter Authority? How close of a match?" He asked.

McCann brought the data on the screen. A photo of a male in his mid 20's appeared with a brief biography.

"Dylan O'Mara. Serving on the Santa Fe, a dilithium freighter that's running the trade route between Denobula and Earth," Tucker read the information softly to himself, not realizing he was saying it aloud.

Gervase reviewed it at the same time, over the Captain's shoulder. Gervase shifted the weight on his feet. "It doesn't really tell us much."

Tucker took a deep breath before replying. "Well, it's better than nothing. Since the charter was signed, Starfleet has been working with the Authority to get a better record of crew manifests." He cupped his hand over his mouth nervously. Behind him, the sickbay doors opened, allowing Lieutenant Sato access.

"Captain," called Hoshi as she stepped around the curtain to the biobed. The site of the badly beaten female lying there caught her off guard. "Oh my gosh! Is she alive?" She asked realizing the monitors were recording a heartbeat and respirations.

"Barely," replied Tucker as he stepped away from the bed and motioned for McCann and Gervase to follow. "What did you find?"

"Not much sir," she stammered finding it difficult to pull her eyes away from the biobed. McCann noticed her distraction and pulled the curtain around the bed to block her view. She took a second to regain her composure.

"The databanks on the pod indicate it came from the Anoree ship. It appears it was ejected about eighty hours ago."

"Well, that explains why their ship is tracking our position," Trip put his hands on his hips and stared up at the medical monitor above his head. "Now the question is why was the pod ejected?"

"Over three days ago?" Gervase questioned with a confused expression on his face. "That was two days before they attacked us!"

"It was one day before. They attacked us two days ago," Tucker reiterated. The senseless babble was getting on his nerves again. _First McCann, now Gervase, who's next? _

"May I remind you Commander," McCann said drawing Gervase's attention to him. "You were unconscious for an entire day. Your internal clock is a little shaky."

Gervase eyeballed Tucker for a moment in an attempt to comprehend the time loss. After a second, he decided to move on. "Okay, so they dropped the pod and then attacked us before we even picked it up. So what was the purpose of the attack and more importantly what the hell was a human female doing on that Anoree ship?"

"She's human?" exclaimed Hoshi as she tried to peer inside the curtained area again. McCann put his hand on her shoulder and ushered her out, whispering the confirmation in her ear as he did.

"Hoshi, was there anything in the pod that would tell us about her identity?" Tucker asked hopeful, although he knew what the answer would be.

Hoshi shook her head in silence. McCann's face lit up and he walked over to the counter. He picked up a metal ring and a small clip and handed it to Tucker.

"She was wearing the ring on her bicep," McCann said handing both items to Tucker. "The clip was embedded in her ear lobe."

"Embedded? Like an earring?" Tucker asked rhetorically. He took the metal band in his hand and stepped back to see it in better light. It appeared to be a tarnished copper bangle. He ran his finger over the surface and felt a worn pattern etched into the metal. He turned it in the light to get a better angle of the lettering.

"Riley," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" asked McCann.

"The name Riley is etched into the metal." He replied squinting at it again in the light.

"Riley O'Mara?" Gervase questioned.

"Let's not speculate. For all we know that might be her dog's name." Tucker handed the bangle back to McCann. "When will it be safe to wake her?"

"Not for a couple of hours Captain. I want to clean her up a little, run her through the imaging chamber again. I'd say six, maybe seven hours at best."

Tucker nodded and then replied. "Let me know when it is okay. And Doctor," he added. "Notify me immediately if there is _**any**_ change in her condition."

McCann felt his face flush and he nodded toward the Captain. He ducked behind the curtain and back into his comfort zone.

Tucker stood silent for a moment, his head feeling like it was going to explode. He walked to the comm panel and contacted Rybaiski on the bridge, informing him to schedule a senior staff meeting for 1900 hours.

"Geri, try to contact the transit authority and see what you can find out about Dylan O'Mara." He stated closing his eyes. "Hoshi help him out and use whatever resources you need."

"Aye sir." Hoshi replied and started for the door.

Gervase stood fast in his place and looked from the Captain to the shadow of the doctor behind the curtain. When Tucker noticed he hadn't left, he turned to address him.

"Problem Commander?"

"I take it I'm released for duty?" Gervase questioned.

Tucker looked around the room and shared a quick glance with the sisters. "Oh, right. I guess you'll have to stay here and attempt that …."

"Get him out of here!" McCann interjected from behind the curtain. The blunt reply caused the room to break out in laughter. Gervase darted out the door immediately.

Tucker started for the doors himself still chuckling at Gervase. "Doc, I'll be in my quarters. Call me the …."

"Wait!" McCann stepped out from behind the curtain with a hypospray and a tricorder in his hand.

"Doc, are you scanning me again without my knowledge?" Tucker growled as he stopped and tilted his head allowing McCann to press the instrument to his neck.

"No, your red eyes gave it away." McCann mumbled under his breath. "And yes, I will contact you immediately if anything changes." He stepped back from Tucker, staring at the results from the scan and furrowed his brow.

"What is it?" Tucker asked when he saw his expression.

"You endorphin levels are elevated."

"Is that causing my headaches?" Tucker asked, suddenly concerned that something was wrong with him.

"It could be, it's not like you haven't been under stress the past couple of days." McCann said looking up at Tucker.

"Could be? You're the doctor... that's the best you can do?" Tucker replied.

"Well, to fully understand your condition I should run a scan on …."

"Nah," Tucker interrupted waving the doctor off with his hand. "I think you have more important patients to monitor. I'll just go … take a nap." Tucker turned and left the room before McCann could respond further.

* * *

Trip checked the chronometer on his desk as he entered his quarters. He removed the top of his uniform and threw it on the bed. Thirteen twenty five, he took a deep breath and blew it hard out his mouth, then rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. In just five and a half hours he needed to be in the briefing and he felt like he could sleep for days.

He stripped off the rest of his uniform and walked into the head. He took care of his business and then stepped into the shower, under the stream of hot water. Tucker leaned his arms against the wall and hung his head down to his chest, letting the hot spray beat down on his neck and back, releasing the tension held within them. After a few moments, he stood upright, reached for the soap and lathered himself up. He turned the water temperature down, rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed the towel of the rack and patted the majority of his body and his hair dry. Trip walked naked from the head to his bed, throwing the towel in the hamper as he went.

Trip took a second to set the alarm on his computer before crawling into the queen size bed of the Captain's Quarters. He rolled restlessly under the sheet trying to find the most comfortable spot, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

_The darkness behind his lids quickly transformed to a sunny beach paradise. Trip found himself walking along the sandy surface, skipping rocks against the tide. In the distance he saw her, sitting quietly on the sand, knees tucked up under her chin. He chuckled when he realized she was wearing a sundress, certainly not her usual beach attire. _

"_Darlin," he greeted her when he drew close. "That dress…I like it." Truth be told, she was beautiful in it. Her olive skin against the yellow and blue fabric was very alluring. He scooped her into his arms and planted his lips on hers before she had a chance to respond. He probed her mouth with his tongue quickly, sending vibrations down her spine. They were both out of breath when they parted. _

"_Considering the stress you have been under lately," T'Pol stammered breathlessly, wiping the wetness from her lips. "I thought I would indulge your fantasy." _

_Trip looked deep into her eyes. "You keep surprising me. First you are half out of uniform, now you're in a sundress," he commented, his voice husky. He planted soft kisses on the nap of her neck and gently rubbed the tip of her ear. "What will it be next?"_

"_You will find out when you arrive at the Starbase." She cooed softly as she hung her head down, allowing him access to the back of her neck. _

_Trip continued to kiss her neck and began to apply soft pressure to a neuro node just below her ear. She gasped as euphoria and desire washed over her like the waves against the shore. _

_Trip knelt on the sand and pulled her down to his level. He pushed the dress over her head and took her breast in his mouth, sucking gently on her nipple, first the left and then right. He massaged one breast while teasing the other with his tongue. T'Pol leaned her head back, moaning softly while running her hands through his hair. _

_She reached out to him, pulling his swim shorts down and began to stroke his organ firmly. Trip moved his hand between her legs and probed her mound, hot and wet, until he found her bud. He fingered the jewel for a few moments. Their mouths found each other again, their lips brushing against each other in frantic hungry kisses. _

_After a few moments, Trip motioned for T'Pol to turn over. She laid face down on the blanket and he pulled her backside up to him. He pushed her legs open with his knee and pushed inside her, T'Pol cried out in pleasure as he hit 'the spot. He pulled her hips against him in a rhythmic motion, grinding their bodies together. He felt her shudder and cry out when her organism hit her. Trip smiled in satisfaction, and then pulled her hips back against him, putting his tip right on her spot. He felt her struggle to move away, but he hung on tightly, forcing her to another climax with small precise movements. He grimaced and bit his lip to stop his own from ruining the fun. After a moment, T'Pol fell exhausted onto the blanket. He curled behind her, putting his energy against the small of her back and cupped her right breast in his hand. _

"_That was to get you back from earlier, darlin," he whispered softly in her ear. "I'm not done with you yet."_

_T'Pol rolled over in his arms and put her hand to his cheek. She pushed him flat on the blanket and straddled him with an evil grin on her lips. "Now it's my turn Th'y'la." _

* * *

Zack McCann ran down the corridor to the conference room, which garnered some odd looks from fellow crewmen. He was late for the briefing and his only excuse was that he was sharing a moment with his husband, Solon. It was no excuse to be late for the briefing and he expected reproach from the Captain.

He nearly tripped as he barreled through the door. Four heads turned in his direction, Rybaiski, Sato, Gervase and Dempsey.

"Nice of you to join us, Doc," commented Rybaiski.

"I apologize for being late," McCann stammered scanning the room for the Captain. "I was getting my notes together."

Rybaiski pushed back from the table and stood. "Just relax; the Captain's late as well." Stu walked to the nearest comm panel.

"Why? Is something going on?" McCann questioned then chided himself for being out of the loop.

Commander Gervase leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Nah, knowing him, he's probably drooling on his pillow."

Hoshi shot him a disgusted look. "Commander, do you think it's appropriate to be talking about the Captain in that manner?"

Geri laced his hands at his chest and laughed. "He's said worse about me, so if the truth hurts." he noticed her expression hadn't changed. "Come on Hoshi. We're among friends. I wouldn't say it to his face." He shrugged his shoulders and waved his hands innocently.

"Yes you would," Dempsey retorted, his antennae dipping forward. The comment broke the room into laughter. Dempsey noticed a smile crawl across Hoshi's face.

"OK, shhh," Rybaiski motioned from the wall. "I'm going to call him." He stood in front of the panel for a second, stretched his mouth to rid himself of the giggles and then activated the comm button.

"Rybaiski to Tucker." There was a long pause and no answer. Rybaiski looked around the room and watched his friends as they stifled their laughter. He keyed the panel again.

"Rybaiski to Captain Tucker," he called more sternly this time. After several more seconds, the comm line opened but the only sound to be heard was the rustling of bed sheets. Finally, a groggy voice responded.

"Tucker here."

"Captain, are you going to attend the briefing or do you want me to run it?" Rybaiski's face was completely red and he snickered as he let off the comm button.

"Nah, I'll be there. What time is it?"

Rybaiski took a deep breath and tried to calm his voice that was riddled with giggles to respond to the Captain. "Its nineteen thirteen hours sir."

"Aw crap," Tucker replied. The comm line went quiet for a moment. Then with more sheet rustling in the background he continued. "I'm on my way."

As soon as the comm line closed, the room erupted with laughter. Stu staggered over to the table gasping for breath as his body shook violently. Even Hoshi gave into the joke. They needed a good laugh; it was a great tension reliever.

They were still chucking about it when Tucker strode through the door. Stu turned in his seat to acknowledge his arrival.

"Wow, you made record time." He tried to keep a straight face, but broke out in laughter again.

Tucker stood silently and glanced around the room. He was embarrassed, luckily they were all friends, and there weren't any stray crewmen in attendance that he needed to impress. "I'm glad you all had a laugh at my expense." He nodded with a smile on his face. He walked over to the table and smacked Rybaiski across the back of the head as he passed. "Thanks for waking me up. Ya could have called me earlier," he commented as he settled in his seat.

Rybaiski ducked his head. "You could have set your alarm," he mumbled.

"I did, at least I thought I did." Trip replied.

"Tucker don't try to lay that "my alarm didn't go off" excuse on us," Gervase replied still chuckling. "I'd expect that from a crewman, but hardly the Captain."

Trip looked around the table at his friends. "Ok, I have no excuse…." He steepled his hands in front of his face. "Just remember paybacks are a bitch." He chuckled for a moment and then turned the floor over to Hoshi and Gervase. "What did you find out?"

Sato looked at Gervase hesitantly and he motioned for her to start. "We were running into some roadblocks, so I asked Gannet to help us. Her ties to the news corps opened the doors a little." She stood from the table and activated the monitor on the wall behind her.

Gervase looked around the table and commented, "She was starting to feel useless in her quarters."

Tucker rolled his eyes and muttered, "Seems to be a theme around here."

Hoshi ignored the peanut gallery commentary and continued. "Dylan O'Mara _did_ have a sister named Riley. Five years ago, their family lived aboard a freighter called the Rockton. O'Mara's father wasn't listed as an official crewmember, but he was classified as a medic. According to Authority records, the Rockton was attacked by raiders and several crew members were killed included Mr. O'Mara. After the attack, Riley was among the missing and presumed dead."

Gervase took over the dialogue from there. "The Rockton was badly damaged in the attack and decommissioned by the Authority. There was a big gap in the record books as to his whereabouts from there. However, we came across an application to Starfleet Academy for Dylan. He applied and was accepted two years ago but never reported. His application stated he received his undergraduate in engineering from a state university. Authority records reflect that he took the job with the Santa Fe six months ago."

Rybaiski sat back in his seat with a perplexed expression on his face. "So she was abducted during the raid," he stated. "Did the records list her age?

"Best guess is that she was about ten," replied Hoshi ruefully. "The Authority gave me as much information as they could. The O'Mara family lived on the Rockton about eighteen months before it was attacked. Ship's log stated Riley was eight when they originally booked passage."

"Whew," Rybaiski groaned shaking his head. "Can you image being ten years old and finding yourself kidnapped by aliens you've never seen?"

"It's a miracle that she's even alive at all," Trip said as the words sank in. "Think about how gullible a ten year old is….geezus. I can't even begin to think about what she's been through."

Hoshi frowned and shuddered as she tried to shake the images from her mind. "Anyway," she said drawing the focus back her way. "Gannet made contact with her brother-in-law on the Horizon to get information on the shipping routes the Rockton may have been running." She brought a star grid up on the monitor and then pointed to an area in the upper left side. "Five years ago, freighters ran dilithium along this trade route, which would have taken them near Nausicaan space."

"The Nausicaan's were notorious for bullying freighters in that grid," Tucker commented as he looked at the monitor. "Enterprise had to lend aid a couple of times because of their antics."

Gervase nodded. "Based on my experience in security, it's likely they traded her at the slave market on Stameria." He stood and walked over to the star grid, pointing to an area near the upper left quadrant. "It's located on an orbital platform near Denobula and is often frequented by the Frengie."

Tucker ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath. "Good work, Hoshi, Commander. Zack, what is her current status?"

McCann stood and transferred the data from his PADD to the monitor. The screen blinked to life displaying the diagnostic scan from the imaging chamber.

"I repaired most of her internal injuries and set the bones in the arm. Her nose and jaw are going to be sore for a while. She had a lot of blood loss and required a couple of transfusions. She has yet to regain consciousness."

"Is it safe to try to wake her?" Tucker asked, hopeful to get more information.

"I took her off the sedative an hour ago … I'd like to give her a couple of hour to wake on her own before I inject her with the stimulant." McCann replied matter-of-factly.

"Ok, then I guess it is my job to contact the Santa Fe," Trip commented and then caught the cascading glances between McCann, Gervase and Sato. "What?"

Gervase looked from Sato to McCann before responding. "Sir, the Bristol is already in route to rendezvous with the Santa Fe."

Trip felt the color drain from his face. "You contacted the Bristol?" he questioned staring directly at Gervase.

Rybaiski cleared his throat. "Admiral Stewart made the contact." He tried to make it sound like no big deal, but when he saw the Captain's face flush and jaw clench, he knew they were all in trouble.

Tucker felt his temper start to flare. _Why is the crew going over my head to Stewart? I was taking a nap … I wasn't dead._ Tucker tilted his head quizzically. "Admiral Stewart contacted the Bristol?" He tried to contain his anger. "Who contacted Admiral Stewart?" he asked staring at his senior team. .

McCann squirmed in his seat when he saw the expression on Tucker's face. He started nervously talking fast, "I contacted the Admiral to check on his health and mentioned the situation to him." He cowered in his chair slightly and added quickly, "He was very eager to help; he said he was feeling bored and neglected back home."

Trip closed his eyes and clenched his jaw muscles. He was completely pissed off that they had contacted Admiral Stewart. He didn't want the Admiral to think he couldn't handle the job.

The air in the room was thick and no one was talking. Rybaiski finally spoke up in an attempt to rectify the situation. "Trip, you told Gervase and Sato to use whatever resources they needed to obtain the information."

"Yea, well, I didn't think you'd to go over my head," he muttered, not meaning to say it aloud.

"You're being paranoid," Dempsey interjected from the end of the table. "No one went over your head. Stu and I were on our way to wake you when Zack told us Stewart had volunteered to help."

Rybaiski nodded agreement trying to downplay the whole thing. However, Dempsey wasn't exactly telling the truth. They had talked about waking Tucker; however the CMO claimed he had ordered bed rest for the Captain. McCann suggested they contact Stewart instead. In retrospect after seeing Tucker's reaction, they probably should have waited until he awoke from his nap. Rybaiski knew that Tucker had something to prove to Starfleet regarding his ability to handle the ship on his own. He knew Tucker was sensitive about it and chided himself for being caught up in the moment earlier.

Trip stared at the table barely hearing his friends defend their actions. Demps _was_ right about his being paranoid. Stewart would have relished the opportunity to help the team and wouldn't have thought anything of their asking. The stress of this mission, being attacked then stalked by an alien vessel, finding a human female floating in space, was getting to him.

"Honestly. It made Stewart's day to be the one to make the call. He was so excited to help us." Rybaiski tried to be reassuring to his friend.

"You know," Gervase butted in. "The more I think about it, Stewart was a little too giddy about the whole thing when we were talking to him. He is certainly a different person when he is sitting at home in his jogging suit than when he is storming around the ship in his uniform."

Tucker straightened in his chair and smiled as he imagined Stewart's reaction. "Well, that's what happens to ya when ya get too much rest," Tucker replied deadpan. "Ya start acting all goofy." He paused for a moment and added. "Present company included."

Gervase bobbed his head in agreement. "My point exactly … see, Doc, there is a downside to lying around too much. Which reminds me Zack, what did he say to you before you cut the comm line?"

Zack darted his eyes around the table and shook his head. "Ah, nothing. It was personal."

Hoshi looked down at McCann and laughed, "It wasn't personal. He said if Zack ratted him out to his Aunt he was going to kill him." Again, laughter cascaded around the table.

Tucker glanced around the table at his senior staff. His officer's ability to adapt to any situation … to be professional one moment and to joke with him as their equal and friend the next was amazing. In the background, Gervase, Dempsey and Rybaiski were discussing if Stewart could be court martial for killing his nephew. As he listened to the conversation, his stomach growled and for the first time in days, he realized was hungry.

"Anyone want to join me for dinner?" Tucker asked as he stood from the table. He didn't have to ask them twice.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sickbay was nearly silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the medical monitors in the curtained area next to the female patient. The only other person in the room was the medical technician, Ensign Leslie Chambers, working diligently in the corner. Her head was bopping in time to the music from her ear bud. She was only wearing one, so she was able to hear the monitors in the room. She heard the main door open behind her and glanced over to Ensign Pascale Braidi come through. Chambers greeted her friend with a big grin. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I just stopped to see if you wanted to work out later," Braidi said as she approached the counter.

"Crewmen Kellie should be here in a few minutes and then I can leave." Leslie replied as she returned to the computer screen and the lab results she had been working with. "I just have a couple more tests to run on these samples. You can stay if you want … I could use the company."

Braidi grabbed a stool and then looked around the room. It was empty except for the female patient on the biobed. "I thought there was supposed to be a security detail in here."

Chambers glanced over at the door, "Corporal Benning was in here earlier, but he went to for dinner."

Braidi looked perplexed. "He just left without calling for relief? Does Colonel Lynch or the Captain know that?"

"I would think he told someone," Chambers replied. "I thought it was a little weird at first … but the patient is unconscious. It is not like she is going to get up and run out of here." She shrugged her shoulders looking over at Pascale.

Braidi laughed. "I guess you have a point. Hey, I've been meaning to ask you, are you still having a fling with you know who?"

Chambers looked over at Pascale with tilted head. "No. That's over," she answered quickly arching her eyebrows and then turned back to her computer screen.

"Since when?" Pascale said, not believing the answer. "I thought you still seeing him at space dock?" she prodded her friend gently.

"We were, but he was just the Chief Engineer then," she replied, pretending to be reviewing data. "Now he is the _First Officer_ and everything is different. He said he can't see me because he's my boss." Leslie felt her face flush slightly. She had just told her a friend a lie. It was the lie that Rybaiski had asked her to tell because the Captain had warned him about dating the crew.

"Hmmm," Braidi mumbled twisting slightly on the stool. "You do know that his ex is on board."

"What?" Chambers exclaimed, the revelation hitting her like a ton of bricks. "Who is it?"

"Lieutenant Sato," Braidi replied with a smile on her face.

"Lieutenant Sato is _'the one'_?" she questioned making the quotation marks with her hands. The one he cheated on when he slept with Chambers. She covered her mouth with her hand. "You are sure? How do you know?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly sure until today." Pascale replied with a sly grin on her face. "When we were at space dock she made comments about her ex but never mentioned him by name. Then Crewman Baker told me he saw them arguing in the corridor a couple of days ago." She continued to smile as she retold the story, slightly swaying on the stool. "But earlier today, they got into a fight in the Command Center and the _air with thick with tension_." She waved her hands to make her point. "Captain Tucker had to yell at him to knock it off."

Chambers rolled a stool next to her friend and sat down. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. "Oh my god, I can't believe she is 'the one'." She repeated making the quotation sign again. "Hoshi is so nice. Stu used to talk so mean about his ex, saying she was possessive and jealous and…"

Pascale interrupted her mid thought. "Les, she probably was jealous and possessive. Think about it... how would you be if your boyfriend cheated on you?"

Chambers was quiet for a moment and reflected quickly. She was feeling jealous and possessive herself. After Admiral Stewart had named Rybaiski Acting First Officer, Stu had told her they couldn't see each other anymore. Then just a day later, he came knocking on her cabin door. Chambers had thought it was because she really meant something to him. Now it was clear to her that Sato had rejected him and she was the consolation prize. The reality lit the fire in her blood.

She balled up fist and took a deep breath. "He didn't dump me because he is my boss now … he did it because he wants to be back with her!" Chambers stood up and kicked the stool into the counter. "He's … ugh! Jerk! Jackass!"

Braidi looked at Chambers. "Les, no sense getting mad at him, you knew what you were getting into when you tasted the wine," Braidi offered ruefully. Pascale made a face and stuck her tongue out as she reflected on his motives.

00-00

As the young ensigns continued their conversation, a soft rustling of bed sheets could be heard from behind the curtain. The banging of the stool hitting the side of the counter woke Riley from her slumber. She opened her eyes slowly and tried to orient herself to the room. Initially she thought she was still in the escape pod, the beeping sound of the sensor display ringing in her ears. As she tuned into the noise and heard the voices in the distance, she quickly realized her plight. _I'm in a hospital, _she surmised looking around the bed. _Which means someone found the pod and now they'll nurse me back to help and start this crap all over again! _she cried silently to herself.

Riley's first inclination was to run. She attempted to sit up, moving quickly for her escape and felt a stabbing pain in her belly. She leaned on her right side as a wave a nausea wash against her, and the room shifted on its axis. She hung her head down, taking deep breaths to regain her composure. She had no time to be weak. She needed to get out of this room and make her way to freedom.

Riley lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. Her earring translated the voices in the background into the language she heard only in her heart. When she felt stronger, she attempted to rise again, more slowly this time. Once sitting, she turned to her right and stared at the medical monitor above her bed.

She scanned the data quickly, noting everything appeared in English. Riley dismissed this as her mind playing tricks on her. Her earring translated language not words. Based on the information on the display and a distant memory of something her father had told her, she determined she wasn't dying.

"I'm not dying here," she mumbled aloud to herself as she gingerly pushed herself off the bed.

Ensign Chambers and Braidi were laughing quietly as Pascale recapped the First Officer's actions on the bridge. Chambers heard a faint sound and glanced around the room looking for the source.

"Did you hear something?" she asked Pascale.

"Could you be more specific," Braidi replied following her friend's eyes. "There are a lot of noises in here."

Chambers shook her head and stood from the chair. "I heard a voice." She walked into the center of the room with Pascale in tow. She found no one there and walked toward the back of the room passing the female patient's curtain area.

Pascale noticed the fabric of the curtain divider move as she passed it. She pulled the drape open slightly to look in on the woman and found herself face to face with the female patient.

"Les," she whispered.

When Chambers turned to look at her, Braidi tilted her head slightly running her eyes from Chambers to directly in front of her. Chambers caught the movement and took one step back. A gasp escaped her lips when she saw the female cowering at the edge of the bed.

"Hi," Leslie stammered out, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. "We aren't going to hurt you. We found your pod and brought you on board to help you."

"You can't help me," whispered Riley as she backed away from the females. Based on the statement, she knew she was on a ship. This would make her escape a little difficult, but not impossible. One of her previous owners had been gracious enough to instruct her on the basics of shuttle operation. On an alien vessel, the controls would be slightly different, but she was confident she could make it work. At the very least, she had to make an attempt; she had nothing left to lose.

With the curtain open, she had a clear line of sight to a door, which obviously led out of the room. Her only obstacles were the two females in front of her. They were talking to her in soft tones, but she wasn't listening. She backed up a few more steps and prepared herself to attack the female standing closest to the bed. As she took the final steps, she watched one of the females walk across the room and retrieve what looked to be a hypospray from the counter. This was Riley's break and she took it.

Riley flew at the Ensign Braidi with a howling fury slamming her right fist hard into the face of her victim. Braidi never felt it coming and slumped to the floor with little resistance, blood spurting from her broken nose.

Ensign Chambers heard the commotion behind her and spun to react. She held the hypospray in one hand and steeled herself against the pouncing female. Although Chambers was taller and more muscular than the female, she was caught off guard by her strength. The two women wrestled and fought for several seconds until the female pushed Leslie to the floor. The hypospray was knocked away from Chambers hand. Riley felt a sharp pain in her side and gave into in for a second. In an instant, she realized the medical device was within her reach and she snatched it quickly off the floor. She leaned over her prey as Chambers grabbed her left arm and twisted it with all her strength. The newly set bones popped easily as Riley screamed out in agony.

Chambers thought the pain would sideline her attacker and give her the opportunity to grab another weapon; however, that theory quickly proved wrong. The pain intensified Riley's persistence. She shoved Chambers flat on the floor and grabbed a handful of Leslie's short hair. Leslie cringed as she felt her head slammed against the cold tiles. As she tried to fight off the darkness, she felt the slight pinch of the hypo being pressed against her skin and felt the room spin as the light faded from her eyes.

Riley knelt on the floor for a moment, breathing deeply and in pain. She gripped her side with her right hand and felt the wetness of the fabric. She pulled her hand back and saw a trace of blood on it.

"I don't have time for this," she mumbled. She stood from the floor and staggered toward a storage cabinet near her bed looking for a bandage or a towel. When she opened the door, she found more gowns and grabbed a handful of them. She pulled a fresh gown over her head and leaned against the cabinet for a moment to steady herself. Riley glanced around the room and noticed another ampoule of medication lying on the countertop. She stumbled over to pick it up and shoved it in the pocket of her gown and then turned and ran out of the room.

The senior staff was enjoying a leisurely meal and casual conversation in the Captain's dining room when the call for the Captain came through.

"Sickbay to Captain Tucker," yelled Crewman Kellie.

Tucker stood to answer the comm noting her voice was slightly distressed.

"Tucker here."

"Sir, you better come down here. I just reported for duty. Ensigns Chambers and Braidi are unconscious and the female patient from the escape pod is missing."

The dining room because deathly silent as the senior staff quickly glanced at each other. Rybaiski and the Captain were the first to move, with Gervase close behind calling for a security detail on his communicator.

00-00

Commander Stu Rybaiski walked down the corridor on Deck Six staring at a PADD that contained the latest engineering diagnostic data. His thoughts were not just on the data in front of him. It had been over four hours since the Captain ordered the ship-wide search for the female patient from sickbay. Her injuries not hampering her escape and the resourcefulness she garnered during her years in captivity hindering her capture. For the first time since the ship was in construction, the First Officer was acutely aware of how many hiding places there were on the ship and exactly how long it was going to take to search them.

In the back of his mind, he was concerned about Chambers. He had just come from sickbay, checking on her status under the pretense as the First Officer. However, as he stared at her unconscious form on the biobed, his heart went out to her. They had been intimate since leaving space dock, despite Tucker's 'Romeo' warning. Just this morning he had asked her to keep their relationship quiet, now he chided himself for not being able to protect her from the attacker. How was he to know the female named Riley was as strong as an ox?

"Engineering to the First Officer." Lieutenant Dempsey's voice on the ship wide comm line startled him. He rolled his eyes and walked over to a comm panel and keyed open a line.

"Rybaiski here."

"We'll be ready to make the jump to Warp 5.5 in 10 minutes," he stated flatly.

"Great job, Lieutenant. I'll inform the Captain." Rybaiski closed the comm line and fished his communicator out of his left arm utility pocket.

"Rybaiski to Tucker," Rybaiski called.

"Tucker."

"Engineering reports we'll be able to go jump to 5.5 within the hour." _Better to pad, then to sell yourself short_, Rybaiski thought to himself smugly.

"It is about time," Tucker replied sarcastically. "I'm tired of dinkin' around out here."

"I take it by your tone the search isn't going too well?" Rybaiski asked already knowing the answer.

"No, it isn't. I'm going to give them another hour and then I'm going to evacuate the ship."

Rybaiski looked around the corridor after the Captain's last comment. "Evacuate?" he asked. "Sir, I don't know if the crew can hold their breath that long."

Tucker's laughter could be heard over his open comm line. "Now that's an option I hadn't considered. I was thinking more along the lines of the cargo bay and then sweeping the rest of the ship."

"Glad you clarified that sir, you were starting to worry me. I'll be in Engineering to help Dempsey fire the engines if you need my assistance. Rybaiski out." He slid the cover of his communicator closed and turned in the corridor to head for the turbolift. He was almost to the lift when his communicator chirped.

"Rybaiski," he answered.

"Commander, are you still on deck six?" Lieutenant Dempsey asked from Engineering.

"Yes and I'm on my way down there," Rybaiski replied.

"Well, hold up. We just had two relays blow in sections Gamma Jay 19, and Gamma Jay 20," Dempsey called.

"Launch bay?" Rybaiski questioned rolling his eyes. _Looks like I found our missing patient,_ he thought to himself. "I'll investigate. Rybaiski out."

He turned on his heel and headed quickly toward the launch bay. The only reason those relays would burn out would be if someone was trying to over-ride the doors. What he didn't understand is how she could have gotten past the security detail standing at the hatch. _Well, that is unless security decided to take a coffee break_, he muttered under his breath. Colonel Lynch and her team were under his scrutiny now. _We may screw around in engineering, but at least we don't leave our posts to go to dinner, _he mused as he continued down the hall.

He rounded the corner at the bay and found the security agent unconscious on the deck. As he checked the man for a pulse and injury he noticed the agent's phase pistol was missing. He looked down the hall and saw maintenance hatch to the launch bay slightly ajar. Rybaiski stood and un-holstered his own phase pistol and stepped quietly through the hatch.

Riley sat shivering in the shuttle pod, staring at the computer monitor in front of her, slightly bewildered. Getting to this point had been easy. After she left the medical bay she was able to access a computer in a small lab. She tapped a few buttons and retrieved a schematic of the ship. Scanning the data quickly, she found the shuttle bay, three decks down from the lab. When she thought she heard someone coming, she crawled into the ventilation duct.

She spent most of the next three hours crawling around in the ductwork. Her legs and arms, covered with scratches and dried blood, bared the proof. She could hear people looking for her, sometimes in the corridor directly below, as she made her way to freedom. She even found a tight hole where she curled up for a nap.

Now impending doom was hanging over her head. She was faced with two problems; she had no idea how to activate the shuttle bay doors. On Gowan's ship once the relays were disabled, the doors opened automatically when the shuttle powered up. She had followed the procedure to the letter, the relays were disabled, the shuttle was powered up, but the doors remained closed. As she stared at the monitor looking for answers her second dilemma hit her square in the face and was the most disconcerting of all. The language on the monitor was English. In fact every monitor she had looked at since waking up in the medical bay appeared to be in English.

Riley knew this was impossible, her earring translated voices, not written words. Her mind was playing tricks on her, perhaps her head injury was more severe than she originally thought, she mused as she instinctively ran her hand over her ear lobe. Panic set in immediately and she felt the color drain from her face. The earring was gone. She twisted in her seat, looking frantically on the floor or the folds of her gown. It was nowhere to be found.

"It must have fallen off in the ventilation shaft", she mumbled quietly. "It's gone, no sense crying over dropped milk." She laughed nervously remembering her mother's favorite phrase. She looked back at the monitor and tried to find something that would help her situation. The footfall behind her and the rustle of clothing quickly squashed that idea.

"Going somewhere?"

Riley froze in her seat. She could feel the blood burning in her face and her stomach lurch with anxiety. The male voice behind her continued on.

"I gotta say your fight for survival is quite impressive....who would have guessed you were a secret weapon? I mean, shoot...considering your injuries, you're tough .. and smart! You sure had security stumped the past few hours. Nice work Riley. It is Riley isn't it?"

Riley shook nervously in her seat and turned slowly to face the voice. She looked the man in the eye and saw kindness behind his stare and smile on his lips. He reminded her of someone she had danced for once or twice.

"You're human," she stammered shaking her head. _It's a trick, don't trust him,_ she reminded herself. She reached behind her back, and palmed the hypospray she had swiped from the medical bay. She looked down at the phase pistol lifted from the security agent lying on the seat next to her.

"Yes, I'm human, just like you." Rybaiski said. She watched him as he took a silver card out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"Rybaiski to the Bridge."

"Bridge." It was Tucker's voice on the comm line.

"Captain, I've found our guest. I have her in the launch bay." Rybaiski stated confidently breaking eye contact with Riley. "I'll need a medic down here to attend to the security agent in the corridor."

"Geri and I are on the way. Tucker out."

Rybaiski slid the cover on the communicator shut and put the device back in his arm pocket. He nodded at Riley and motioned for her to step out of the shuttle pod.

"That's your cue to step out of there, Missy," he stated. He turned to the side to allow her access to the hatch.

Riley stared at him without moving. Her brother used to call her missy, long ago when she lived on that ship with him and her father. Now this man in front of her, a complete stranger, was calling her missy and she understood him clearly. It didn't make sense, her earring was gone and it would be impossible for her to understand him. English was the language in her heart, but no other species spoke it.

"This is a trick," she mumbled softly.

"It's not a trick," he tried to assure her. "Look, I'll even put this away," he said holding up his phase pistol. He shoved it in the holster and showed his empty hands to her. "Come on, we'll go get some ice cream. Betcha haven't had any for a while, huh? What's your favorite flavor? Chocolate? Strawberry?" He tilted his head to the side and nodded again. He tried to look as non-threatening as he could.

_Chocolate ice cream_, Riley repeated in her head as a wave of memories flooded over her. She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. _Don't trust him_, she screamed silently. _He's going to hurt you. _

Rybaiski looked at Riley and noticed she was trembling. He held out his hand to her. "Come on, I promise I won't hurt you," he said softly and motioned for her to step out of the pod.

Riley smiled slightly and stood to crawl out of the pod. As she stepped behind Rybaiski she pressed the hypospray to the back of his neck and he staggered slightly. Riley jumped out of the pod and attempted to make a run for the door.

Rybaiski caught her by the left arm as he fought to remain conscious, the medication from the hypo oozing slowly through his system. She yelped in pain, turned quickly and landed a right fist squarely in his face. He released her arm and staggered to the deck as Riley turned to make her escape again.

The Commander reached for her foot and snagged it, sending her sprawling onto the floor. As blackness began to settle in, he struggled frantically for his phase pistol; however, she beat him to it. He felt the sharp sting in his chest as the weapon hit him from point blank range. _Thank god that was set on stun, _he thought as the launch bay darkened around him.

Riley stood from the deck, her broken arm dangling at her side. She looked back at the man lying by the shuttle and shook her head. He had pushed her buttons and she had nearly fallen for his trap. Her means of escape shut off from her, she needed to find another way. She turned and scampered over to the maintenance door. She would have to find an escape pod instead.

"Freeze!"

The command startled Riley as she stepped through the door. She pointed the phase pistol in the direction of the voice holding the trigger until she heard a thud. She looked up and saw a female lying in the hallway near the security person she had injected with the hypo earlier. Riley knew the clock was ticking. She looked up at the ceiling for a ventilation access point, but there was none. She turned to run in the opposite direction when she felt a sharp tingle in her shoulder and she stumbled to the deck. _Time's up_, she thought as blackness enveloped her.

tbc.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Elnora moaned softly as the slave massaged her neck. Her muscles taunt from the recent foray she had engaged in with her estranged husband. He had stolen the attendant and possibly even his slave, although he claimed not to have picked up that pod. She didn't believe his lies. The attendant's accomplices had graciously volunteered that they had jettisoned both pods at the same time, so if Jarvick didn't pick it up … where did the second pod go?

She had ordered a sweep of the area, yet found nothing of the pod. The only other ship that had access was the human vessel. However, she had been tracking the ship for a day and had seen no indication that they had slowed to pick it up or that it was onboard.

Jarvick had demanded to know why this one slave was so important to her. There were hundreds of slaves aboard her ship to do her beckoning. His attendant had informed him that she had taken the seed, so of what use was the shell at this point? What Jarvick didn't know was the seed failed, and without it, without the slave as evidence, the timeline for her plan to repopulate Anoree would be pushed back. She needed the slave back and it did not matter if it was alive or not.

Elnora relaxed into the pressure on her neck and took a deep breath. A knock at the door came shortly. The attendant stepped away from the Mistress to receive the message.

"Mistress, there is an incoming message from your father's ship," stated the attendant as it closed the door.

Elnora sat up quickly and reached for her robe. She walked to the computer monitor on the wall and opened the line. The snowy picture took a moment to snap into view. Her father's assistant, Atar, appeared on the screen.

"Atar," she stated.

"Mistress, you appear well," Atar replied bobbing his head.

"Cut the crap, Atar," she retorted. "What information do you have for me?"

Atar appeared nervous and squirmed in his seat. "I have just heard from Levine, he has positioned his ships near the Kular Outpost," he stammered. "The plan has been activated, Mistress."

"And my father?" Elnora questioned.

"He believes you are en-route to rendezvous with his ship at the home world."

"Excellent," Elnora replied smugly. "You have done a fine job Atar and will be rewarded greatly."

"Mistress," he began hesitantly. He watched Elnora's scales lay back on her head in annoyance. "I do not like deceiving your father as we have. Milord has treated me well. You request has put me in an uncomfortable position."

Elnora leaned into the viewing screen and glared at Atar. "You should have thought about your alliances before you maneuvered yourself into my bed, Atar. You have no one to blame but yourself." She stepped back from the monitor and paced around for a moment, and then with her back to the monitor she continued.

"You'll need to inform Levine my departure from this sector will be slightly delayed. Something has come up with the slave that is detaining me." She turned and faced Atar again.

"Our timeline does not allow for delays, Mistress," Atar replied sternly. "Clean up your business quickly."

Elnora stepped closer to the monitor. "Your job is to keep Levine on the timeline, Atar. You don't need to worry about me." She keyed the comm line closed and the screen went blank.

Elnora stared into the blackness for several minutes without moving. She would never admit it, Atar was correct about their timeline. She had made a huge error in taking the seed from the slave. The doctors had warned her it was too early, but she was over zealous. The seed did not survive more than a few hours. If their plan was going to work correctly, she needed to retrieve the slave from … Jarvick, the humans, or whoever had claimed it and she needed to do so quickly.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Agghh, god, where am I?" Rybaiski mumbled as he rolled over on his side. His head was throbbing from the pain raging through it.

"You are at the Ritz Carlton Commander," Tucker replied deadpan. "Would you like champagne with your caviar?" He smiled as he stepped closer to the biobed Rybaiski was laying on.

"Ha, funny Trip, don't quit your day job," Stu replied with a grimace on his face.

"I'm sure Colonel Lynch will have the same advice for you regarding your short-lived stint as a security officer."

"Yea, well, at least I don't take coffee breaks," Rybaiski mumbled as he tried to sit up. Tucker watched the color drain from his face and caught his pal before he passed out. He lowered him back to the biobed and waved Crewman Kellie over to his side.

Rybaiski took a deep breath and closed his eyes, fighting a wave of nausea. "She was a little stronger than I anticipated, that's all."

The captain laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder. "And armed with not only a phase pistol but a hypo filled with just enough sedative to knock you out."

The First Officer looked up at his friend in annoyance. "And your point?"

Tucker smiled smugly. "You don't have to be a hero to be the First Officer."

Rybaiski struggled to sit up again and gave Crewmen Kellie a strained look. She reached behind him and lifted the top of the biobed into a reclined position. "Well, sir, I'll take that under advisement, considering you've never been the First Officer," he mumbled as he settled back on the bed.

Tucker leaned on the bed slightly and jabbed the last word in at his friend. "But I have been named a Hero, officially sited in my Starfleet record."

"Agghh, thank god I'm laying on this bed. The shit is getting deep in here," Rybaiski coughed out, pretending to be sick.

"I'll say," muttered Crewman Kellie under her breath as she stared at the tricorder results.

Rybaiski glanced from Tucker to Kellie and rolled his eyes. "Crewman Kellie, instead of eavesdropping on our conversation you should be doing something for my headache."

Kellie looked up at the Commander as she snapped the tricorder shut. "Sir, it's not eavesdropping when you are talking loud enough to wake the dead." She stepped over to pull the curtain adding sarcastically, "I can't do anything for your headache. You'll need to sleep it off." She pulled the curtain around his bed and walked back toward her workstation.

Rybaiski stared at her bewildered and then looked over at Tucker. "That was insubordinate, don't you think?"

Tucker crossed his arms at his chest and stared at Stu. "Did you sleep with her?"

"What?" Rybaiski whispered astonished that his friend would even suggest it.

"Look, I'm starting to see a pattern, here. Everyone woman you have an issue with on the ship was either on the softball team or hung out at Mulligan's which leads me to believe…"

"I did not sleep with her," Rybaiski replied tersely. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes again. It was a true statement, but it wasn't for his lack of trying. Kellie shot him down, now he was trapped in sickbay with her. "Can we just drop it?" Stu rolled on his side and tried to settle in for the rest of the night. "Where's the lil torpedo now?" he asked Tucker.

"In the brig," Tucker replied flatly. "I decided it would be safer for her and the rest of the crew if she was confined more securely. McCann's att….."

He was interrupted mid sentence by a call from the bridge. He sighed heavily as he stepped to the nearest comm panel. "Now what," he mumbled aloud before keying the panel. "Tucker, here."

"Captain, we're receiving a hail from the Anoree ship," replied Gervase, the Gamma shift executive officer.

"I'm on my way," Tucker replied and he turned quickly from Rybaiski's bed toward the main sickbay doors.

00-00

Tucker paused a moment after coming down the stairs into the Command Center. He glanced around the room quickly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the lighting. Ship wide Gamma Shift kept the lighting low, to conserve resources and simulate night on earth. The bridge crew for Gamma shift was barely aware of the captain's arrival as they were working efficiently at their posts. Gamma shift was an eccentric lot, hand picked by Stewart to guide the ship through its darkest hours. The team consisted of four officers and one crewman, all male.

Commander Gervase, the Denobulian, was the XO. Gervase had spent nearly all his career working security and intelligence details and more reserve on the surface than any other Denobulian Tucker had met. He was built like a linebacker, medium height, and a beefy muscular stature. He wore his hair longer than most males, pulling it back in a ponytail for Starfleet regulations. Unlike Dr. Phlox, Gervase had no wives and had been quite the ladies man while the ship was in space dock.

Helmsmen for Gamma shift was Lieutenant Jonah Ganzer. Ganzer had served on Columbia three years before the Romulan War. During the war, he served on the Republic and Shenandoah before the Admiral tapped him for flight tests on the warp six project. Ganzer was far from the typical Starfleet officer. Technically, he was one of the better helmsmen in Starfleet, right up in the ranks of Travis Mayweather, but appearance wise, the man could stand to lose a few pounds. His short statue and his longer than average hair cut made him look…. pudgy in Tucker's opinion. His only downfall was his off the wall sense of humor that the admiral found oddly refreshing.

The other Gamma shift crew consisted of two fresh from the academy ensigns and an enlisted technician. Ensign Tom Cramer was assigned to Tactical and Ensign Cody Pierce held down both Communications and Science. Crewman Levi Stone worked the all-around position and could jump in at any station in a moments notice.

"Report," Tucker called out as he walked toward the work bar.

Gervase was leaning over the temporary helm talking to Ganzer as Tucker walked toward his post.

"Captain," he stated calmly, standing upright. "The hail came in about twenty minutes ago. Ensign Pierce has been working on getting the universal translator to lock on."

"It's all yours Captain," Pierce called from the science station.

"Alright then, on screen," Tucker replied.

The main viewer sprang to life revealing the Anoree, a reptilian type species, sitting on the bridge of the vessel. There were no defining traits about the individual that clued Tucker or the rest of the bridge crew into its gender. Tucker looked over at the XO with a perplexed expression on his face and cleared his throat.

"Greetings. I'm Captain Charles Tucker of the Starfleet vessel Phoenix. How can I assist you?"

The Anoree leaned into the viewer, giving the appearance of being larger than life. "I am Elnora, of the High Family of Anoree. I believe you have something that belongs to me."

"I'm sorry," Tucker replied as he looked at her quizzically. "I ahh don't know what you are talking about."

Elnora glared at Tucker and waited several seconds before she continued. "Captain, do not embarrass yourself in front of your crew. We have already proven we can out gun you. It would be in your best interest to return my property and be on your way."

Within seconds, Cramer had activated the Tactical Alert status, which brought the hull plating on line and powered up the weapons. He leveled the phase cannons targeting sensors directly on the Anoree vessel. The activation lights flashing red around the room confirmed the action to Tucker. He glanced down at a sensor display and then walked slowly down the length of the table toward the viewer.

"I beg your pardon, mah uh…Elnora, the only person who is going to be embarrassed is you when you realize your error in deduction."

Elnora jumped up from her seat and yelled into the view screen. "I have scanned your ship, Captain and detected my escape pod in your shuttle bay. I demand you return it and the contents to me immediately!"

Trip stood firm on his mark, making a slight gesture to Pierce to cut the feed. Once the screen returned to the star field simulation, Tucker looked around the room.

"Did sensors indicate they scanned us?" He asked of anyone in the room

Gervase was the first to speak. "Sir, I've been analyzing our readings on that ship for the past two hours, I don't think they have that capability."

Ganzer nodded in agreement. "They have some hot rod weapons, but that's the only high tech thing on that ship."

"Those weapons aren't even theirs," Stone piped in from his station. "They don't match the ship makeup and quite honestly … there is no way in hell they can out gun us."

Tucker nodded absorbing the information the team was throwing at him. "The pod is Anoree however," he commented. "We confirmed that earlier today."

"Well, maybe it is the only one they had and that's why she/he/it wants it back," muttered Ganzer with a smirk on his face. The comment caused a chuckle around the room.

"Based on our information, Elnora is a she," Tucker mumbled thinking aloud. "She can have the pod back, but I'm damn sure not giving out any information about the occupant. Put her back on screen," he said.

The screen returned to its previous view, Elnora was standing in front of the monitor looking totally put out over being cut off.

"Sorry for the delay, I had to take inventory of the ship," Trip said nonchalantly. He pulled a stool over and sat down. "There is a lot of stuff floating around in space that we pick up to research. We are explorers, you understand."

Elnora stared at the Captain, her eyes empty and lacking emotion. Tucker drummed his hands on the top of the work bar and then threw them up with a dramatic flair. .

"So …. we have the pod. However, ah….we're having technical difficulties with our launch doors right now, so I won't be able to get it back to you immediately." He shared a quick glance with Gervase. "However, it was empty when we reeled it in and of no scientific consequence to us."

Elnora leaned forward in her chair and glared into the viewer. "I find it very difficult to believe the pod was empty Captain, considering the slave that launched it paid for that action with its life."

Tucker was silent, carefully choosing his words. "In that case, it is possible that we missed something significant. Perhaps if you could identify it, I can have a team search the pod for you." Tucker stared at screen defiantly.

Elnora sat back in her chair with what appeared to be a smirk on her face. "Captain, I am certain the item in question would be fairly obvious to you. It is my property and I demand you return it immediately. You have two hours to repair your launch door and jettison the pod or I will open fire and take it from you." She waved her hand dismissively and killed the video feed.

The view screen went blank and Tucker turned around on his heel. "Get McCann on the line," he called out to Pierce, quickly formulating a plan in his head.

"McCann here." the doctor answered, his voice groggy from sleep.

"Doc, is our guest awake?" Tucker asked.

"She was awake when I left her," he replied. "Although extremely agitated."

"I can deal with agitated. Meet me at the brig." Tucker looked around the room. "Ganzer you have the bridge. Geri, you're with me."

00-00

The brig was in the bowels of the ship, literally. Two floors below engineering and sharing the deck with power distribution, waste-water reclamation/recycling, supplies and the laundry, the brig occupied a small space at the end of the hall. Managed by the quartermaster, a chief petty officer, the deck was manned by six to ten enlisted crewmen at any given time. The jobs weren't the most glamorous on the ship but if anything went haywire with these systems, the entire ship would be thrown for a loop.

As the turbolift door open, the captain and XO were assaulted by the odd odor that defined the deck. They stepped out of the lift and walked down the corridor toward the Brig.

"Peeeuwe!" Gervase groaned and blinked his eyes several times, as the smell hit him in the face. "Why does it always stink down here?"

"How should it smell?" Tucker chuckled pinching the end of his nose shut. "It's one big sewage plant, garbage dump and washing machine." He let go of his nose as he walked. "You think this is bad? You should have been on Enterprise when we were after the Xindi. The system was off line for nearly half the trip, raw sewage was leaking on the floors…"

"Ughh!" Gervase interrupted. "I don't need to know the details. Coming down here is bad enough! I have no idea how anyone can work down here. "

"It's not too bad once you get used to it." Trip took a sideways glance at the XO and noticed the grimace on his face. "Maybe I should schedule you for some cross training," Trip replied arching his eyebrows at the XO. "It's important for the third in charge to have a general understanding of how each department works."

"Oh, I have an understanding Captain," Gervase replied slowing his gait as they came up on the brig. "I go in the head, take a crap, and flush the toilet. Then the load filters down here, and it goes through the magic strainer machine and then POW! Next week my crap becomes an engineering part or the sole of someone's boot."

Tucker stopped walking and turned to face Gervase. His description was dead on for the most part. Disgusting as it sounded, it was the way the ship survived deep space missions. "I was talking about hands on knowledge," he said firmly. "There may come a day when you need to come down here and fix something."

"You're kidding me right?"

"No, I'm not," Tucker replied firmly. "I'll have Rybaiski schedule that for next week. How good are you at improvising?" Tucker asked the XO changing the subject.

Gervase scowled silently. "I can hold my own in a bar fight," He replied sarcastically. "Bluffing is a major factor working security."

"Hmmm," Trip mumbled furrowing his brow. _He's full of it tonight, _he though quietly planning his conversation with Riley on the fly. Dr. McCann rounded the corner by the brig door and Trip nodded his head in acknowledgement of his arrival. "Okay, follow my lead. Let's just see how talkative Miss Riley wants to be tonight."

"And if she's not?" Gervase asked.

"I'll pull a card from Archer's bag-a-tricks," Trip replied with a smirk. _Add actor and poker player to the list of captain responsibilities, _he noted mentally as he prepared himself for the upcoming encounter.

Tucker stepped up to the retinal scanner and waited as the blue light passed in front of his face. Once positive identification was made the security door slid open, putting the Captain face to face with the security agent, Corporal Kuhlie, a female Andorian exchange officer. _Geezuskrice… we're trying to convince the girl she's on an earth ship and we post an Andorian on brig watch, _Trip grumbled mentally.

Tucker nodded to the Corporal and stepped up to glass the separated the cells from the rest of the room. Gervase and McCann followed standing at the Captain's side. Corporal Kuhlie stood behind them with her hand hovering over her phase pistol. The female known as Riley sat on the bunk, huddled with her back against the wall, her knees drawn up to chest. Her red hair was wet and parted to the side, revealing a scar in the middle of her forehead that mimicked a letter from another dialect. Similar markings and tattoos covered her forearms. Tucker noted she had changed out of her hospital gown and was wearing blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Her bare feet were tucked underneath the blanket.

"Since we haven't been formally introduced," Tucker began, speaking to her for the first time since she had been brought aboard the ship. "I'm Captain Charles Tucker the Third. You're currently aboard the Starship Phoenix from the planet Earth. You already know Lieutenant Commander McCann, ship's doctor. This is Commander Gervase, my Executive Officer." Tucker stated pointing at each man as he introduced them.

He watched at Riley through the glass. She said nothing, remaining on the cot, and staring at the floor. He noticed she was trembling and wasn't sure if it was from fear or the air temperature. Tucker placed his thumb on the pad that controlled the security lock for the hatch and waited for the locks to disengage. Once the door slid open, Trip stepped inside the cell and took a position directly in front of Riley. Gervase followed and stood at the end of the bunk. McCann stayed behind the glass, Corporal Kuhlie stepped into the doorway, thwarting any attempt to escape.

"Riley, I know you're scared. Shoot, if I was in your place, I would be too," Tucker said looking down at her. "You have some explaining to do."

"This is a trick," she mumbled, barely audible. "Human's don't exist."

He crossed his arms at his chest. "Well, I'm sure your capturers have led you to believe that over the past four years. Obviously, it's not true. Humans do exist; Dr. McCann and I are human, just like you."

"They are not human," Riley muttered pointing in the direction of Commander Gervase and Corporal Kuhlie.

Tucker didn't even flinch "Well, you're right ….they're not human. Commander Gervase is Denobulian and Corporal Kuhlie is Andorian. Their species are allies with Humans and Earth. In fact, there people from five species on the ship, working together cooperatively."

Riley's expression was a blank slate. She was cautious, having been deceived in the past by species that appeared human. They made promises and tricked her with false hope. Then in the end, they hurt her physically and emotionally. _Don't trust them_, she told herself. "They are just like everyone else," she said in a low voice.

"Who is like everyone else?" questioned Tucker looming above her. When she didn't answer, he decided to try a different tactic. He walked to the end of her cell and pushed a metal bracket on the cross beam to the side. The motion released a metal shelf, which he pushed down and then sat on. "Riley?" he called to her once he was at her eye level.

She watched him warily as he sat there. His voice reminded Riley of her father in a way, strong and protecting. His piercing blue eyes were kind and soft. She held his stare for a few seconds and then looked away, toward the blue woman at the doorway, and the doctor standing behind the glass.

"Riley, answer me." Trip repeated sternly. "Who is everyone else?"

"All my other owners," she mumbled. "They lied to me, played tricks on me and then took what they wanted."

Trip took a deep breath and pursed his lips. Her life experiences had jaded her, forced her resourcefulness and her fight for survival. Hearing her verbalize what her captures had done caused his blood to boil. He had no time or place in his life for cowards that manipulated or took advantage of innocents.

"I won't fall for your tricks," Riley said defiantly.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that because we aren't in the business of playing tricks," Gervase replied coolly from the end of her cot.

Riley looked up at him with a confused expression on her face. "You are lying! Why else would you be holding me here?" She backed up on the cot, pressing herself against the wall.

"You're in this cell for your own protection and considering the injuries you've inflicted during your failed escape attempt, the crew's safety," Tucker answered her. "Unlike the other species you have recently been in contact with, the crew aboard this ship answers to a higher moral and ethical standard and _**no one**_ will be playing tricks on you to take what they want."

Riley's stare alternated between the Captain and the XO. She heard their words, but knew from experience they were hollow promises. "Why should I believe you, you've already lied to me."

"No one on this ship has lied to you Riley," Tucker replied.

"The females… in the medical bay claimed nobody would hurt me," she cried. "And then people did."

"Was that before or after you broke Ensign Braidi's nose or cracked open Ensign Chamber's skull?" Gervase questioned putting his hands on his hips.

Riley stared at him for a moment and the looked at the floor. She felt their eyes boring into her. "Am I your prisoner?"

"No," Gervase replied.

"Am I your slave?"

"No," Gervase repeated. "Slavery is not allowed on my world or Earth for that matter."

"If I'm not your prisoner or your slave, then let me go."

Tucker clapped his hands on his thighs and stood up from the stool. "You can leave any time you want, Miss Riley. We can drop you and your escape pod right back into space," he retorted slamming the stool back into its storage position. "Mr. Gervase, prepare the pod for the drop."

"Aye, Sir," he replied, stepping closer to the doorway of the cell. Tucker turned to follow him, stopping as McCann spoke.

"Captain," McCann interjected walking toward the open cell door. "I'll contact the Santa Fe and inform Dylan O'Mara the female we discovered was not his sister." He shrugged glancing in Riley's direction, "No sense getting his hopes up."

Hearing her brother's name triggered a memory inside Riley. The officers at the door watched the expression on Riley's face change, flushing with color, her eyes filling with tears. She held the back of her right hand to her face and turned her head to the wall trying to hide her response from the men in the room. It didn't matter; the officers had seen all they needed to know they had a breakthrough of sorts. Now they just needed the icing on the cake to solidify it.

"Oh, before you leave," Tucker called to her, drawing her attention from her sobs. He waved his finger in the air to make his point. "There's a ship tracking our position. What kind of ship was it?" Tucker asked Geri with a quizzical twist to his face.

"Ah ... Anoree, wasn't it?" Geri replied playing right along with the gag.

"Yeah, Anoree … a female named…Elnora called over here about twenty minutes ago looking for you," Tucker knew his statement would provoke her in some way….although he wasn't quite expecting Riley's response.

At the mere mention of Elnora's name, Riley jumped off the cot and backed herself up against the sidewall of the cell, shaking her head violently. "No, you can't send me back there!" she screamed. She scanned the positions of the four officers at the door and saw a small opening for escape.

She lunged forward into the space between the XO and the Captain, shoved Tucker back as she passed. Caught off guard, he lost his balance and fell to the floor, which made her escape route even wider. She turned and barreled into Gervase with knocking him back into the glass wall.

Before the young woman could take another step, McCann grabbed her shoulder and shoved her face first in the bulkhead outside of the cell. He pinned her arms behind her back and held them securely until Kuhlie could get the security bracelet on them. Riley screamed and squirmed in his grasp as Kuhlie put the device in place. The security door to the brig slid open revealing two armed crewmen in the outside corridor. They leveled their phase pistols on Riley as the ruckus within the brig settled down.

In the few seconds it took the XO to recover, McCann, the Corporal and security had Riley subdued and cuffed. Gervase helped Tucker get to his feet as the Corporal and one of the security officers hauled Riley back into the cell and pushed her down on the bunk.

"You got some balls, I'll give you that," Tucker commented as he dusted himself off. "Where the hell did'ja think you were going?"

"I don't know!" Riley blubbered. "I can't go back there!" she added after sobbing uncontrollably for a few seconds.

"I get that," Tucker replied rubbing his wrist. "Care to elaborate?"

She took several breaths and tried to control her breathing, which was still riddled with sobs. "I belong to Elnora's mate; I am a prize of sorts." She looked up at Tucker and Gervase, tears running down her cheeks.

"What does that mean exactly?" questioned Tucker as he stood in front of her with his arms crossed at his chest. He was slightly miffed that a female a foot shorter than he, barely weighing 100 pounds could knock him off his feet.

"I was acquired to produce offspring," she blurted out.

"Offspring? Medical scans indicated you were pregnant," McCann questioned from the doorway. "Was the baby…?"

"I….I don't think it works between our species," she cut him off shaking her head. "I was positioned for fertilization, but it…it didn't take," her voice cracked as she spoke. 

Tucker teetered on his feet as he digested what she said. _Positioned for fertilization_, the words put an image in his mind that disgusted him. After a second, something clicked and he tilted his head. "If you couldn't get pregnant by Elnora's mate, then who was the father of the baby?"

"Another slave," Riley answered. Her breathing was still ragged. "He's humanoid. I think his species is called Denari."

"Denari?" Trip guffawed in surprise. "How the _hell_ did you get hooked up with a Denari? They can barely leave their world!" Tucker was familiar with the Denari. _Too familiar, _he thought remembering his relationship with Neesa Trant. Enterprise had encountered the Denari over seven years ago when they had flown through an anomalous rift in space and ventured into an alternate timeline. The last time anyone had checked on the Denari in this timeline, they hadn't developed warp drive.

"The same way he hooked up with me," Riley countered staring Tucker right in the eye. She was quiet for a moment as she stared at the floor. "If you put me back in the pod, I'm dead. Elnora will kill me. She tried once already … she did this too me," Riley pleaded to the men in front of her. She lifted her shirt to expose the jagged incision on her belly as a reminder to them what she had been done to her.

Gervase glanced at the incision and grimaced. McCann had cleaned it up some, but it was still rather ominous looking. "Why does she want to kill you?" asked Gervase perplexed.

"She believes the seed was her mate's," Riley replied.

"But you just said it wasn't," Gervase repeated not understanding what she meant.

Riley shook her head in frustration. "Maybe I'm not using the right words," she cried. _Why am I using any words? What am I doing? Trusting these strangers? Is staying here better than going back to Elnora? _ she asked herself as she scrambled to find words that matched her experiences.

Tucker mulled over what her statement and compared it with his breakfast conversation with Admiral Archer. A light bulb went on in his head as he repeated her last sentence aloud. "Elnora believes her mate fathered your child," he paused a moment. "But he didn't," he waited for confirmation from Riley. She looked up at him and nodded. "You were acquired to produce offspring for them because they can't, correct?" Tucker asked finally putting it all together.

"Yes" Riley said in a small voice relieved that he finally understood her.

"Then she wants you back because she wants a kid," Gervase surmised. "What happened to the one she already took?" Gervase looked at McCann and trailed his eyes to Tucker.

_Dead, _Tucker reflected as he thought more about Riley's situation. He caught Gervase and McCann's attention with his eyes and motioned for them to step out of the cell. As the two left the brig, Tucker noticed Riley was carefully tracking their movements as well.

"Are you going to turn me over to Elnora?" Riley asked him when it was just Tucker and Corporal Kuhlie in the room.

"No," Tucker replied. He stepped closer to the bed intending to remove the security restraint from her wrists. Trip unconsciously placed his hand on her shoulder and reached around behind her to click the release. He stopped short, pulling his hands back when he noticed Riley flinch and pull away from him.

"Wha…what'rou … do you…wa…?" she stammered, panic setting in quickly. She scrambled off the bunk and backed herself against the wall. "I'll do whatever you want" her blurted out. "You don't have to," her words trailed off as she pleaded falling down to her knees and shielding her face from him.

Her reaction stunned Tucker. _Geezus, she really thinks I'm going to hurt her. _ Trip ran his hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do. _This wasn't in the Captain's manual, _he thought scrambling to find a way to reach her. He blew a puff of air out of his mouth and squatted down on his haunches bringing himself eye level with her.

"Hey," he began softly trying to build some trust between them. "Look, Riley, I know you don't know me from squat, but you have my word that nothing bad is going to happened to you. I won't let it. I promise. I know a lot of people have lied to you in the past. But I don't lie and I don't make promises that I can't keep." Trip reached over and gently pulled her chin toward him, so he could look her in the eye. She didn't resist. "As for Elnora, I'm not going to send you back there and there is no way in hell I'm going to let her close to you. Okay?" He waited for her response and watched her nod tentatively.

"Let's get you up." Trip put his hand under her arm and pulled her up as he stood. He turned her around so Corporal Kuhlie could remove the restraint.

"Am I a prisoner?" she asked him once her wrists were free. .

"No, Riley, you're not. I'm not your owner and you're not a prisoner or a slave."

"Do I have to stay here?"

"As in … stay in this cell? For the time being, yes. You'll remain here until I can trust that you aren't going to jump out of an airlock or attack any more of the crew."

"It stinks down here," she muttered sitting down on the bunk.

The comment made Kuhlie and Tucker laugh. "Aint that the truth," Tucker agreed with her finally seeing a hint of a smile on her lips. "You get some rest. Let your body heal. If you need anything or if you just want to talk to me, tell Corporal Kuhlie."

"Ice cream … can I have some?" She muttered with an innocent look that reminded Trip of his five year old niece.

"Sure," he said looking at the child that sat in front of him. "What's your favorite flavor?"

"I da…don't remember," she whispered with a far off look on her face.

"Okay," he said slowly looking at Kuhlie. "Start with something that isn't going to upset her stomach, like a sorbet, or shaved ice," he said stepping out of the cell.

Riley watched him leave the cell and walk out into the hallway. She lay down on the bunk facing the wall and curled into a ball. She cursed at herself silently for giving too much of herself away. She opened herself up for trouble now. _It's just a matter of time until they deceived me, _she thought as she remembered the last time she tried to trust. _Because of my big mouth, the captain holds all the cards now, _she reminded herself.

00-00

"What do you think?" Gervase said to the Captain once he exited the brig. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay … other than she thinks it stinks down here." Trip replied walking toward the turbolift. He rubbed his wrist again and flinched in pain when he tried to flex his fingers. "She's strong as hell. My fingers are a little numb. Do you have a tricorder with you?"

McCann reached down to utility pocket of his pant leg and pulled out a medical tricorder. He scanned Tucker's wrist as they waited for the turbolift. "It's sprained," he remarked just as the door slid open.

The three men stepped into the lift and punched the button for deck four. "Are you kidding?" Tucker whined rubbing the wrist again. "What's the modern cure for that?"

"Nothing," Zack replied flatly. "I can give you a brace for stability, perhaps a shot of an anti-inflammatory for pain."

"Doc, you're sounding more like a Vulcan everyday," Gervase laughed at McCann's inflection. "Solon is really wearing off on you."

"Take it as a compliment Zack. There's something to be said about the ability to remain calm cool and collected at all times." Tucker added wincing in pain. "How much time do we have left?"

"About ninety minutes," Gervase said looking at the chronometer on the tricorder.

"Crap," Tucker cursed just as the door slid open on deck two. The three men exited the lift and walked toward sickbay.

The door to sickbay opened and the three officers passed through. Only Solon, the Vulcan doctor was on duty. Officially, Solon held the title of physician's assistant even though on Vulcan he was a doctor. In order to receive his accreditation for Starfleet, he needed to serve on a starship. Admiral Stewart had exercised an _Admiral's Privilege_ to have Solon assigned to Phoenix. However, having two doctors aboard a ship the size of Phoenix was unheard of and unnecessary in Starfleet's eyes. To pacify the powers to be, Solon adopted the title of Physician's Assistant.

"What did you two think about her story?" Tucker asked as they walked into the room.

"It seemed legit to a point," Gervase replied. "It matches her injuries at least. We found her floating in space, near death with the crap beat out of here and her baby missing."

"Except that bit about who the father is," Tucker scowled under his breath. "Zack did she say anything different to you today?" Tucker stepped to one of the workstations and logged himself in. He punched a couple of keys, trying to pull up a certain record.

"No, she wasn't exactly talkative today," he replied leaning against the counter. "In fact, I wasn't really sure she could talk."

"Ah huh." Trip mumbled not hearing what the doctor was saying. "Did you any trace DNA from the fetus?"

"Minimal," McCann answered. "All I can say about the father is a variation of humanoid."

"Hmmm, interesting." Trip mumbled. "Solon, could you do me a favor and run the test again? Try using this DNA information as your base." He pointed at the computer in front of him. Solon nodded without a word and stepped back to his workstation.

"Why this is important?" Gervase asked with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Well, let's say it's a curiosity," Trip said sighing. "There aren't Denari in space."

"You said that earlier," Gervase butted in.

"Yeah, well... it's not exactly true," Trip remarked hesitantly. "There are Denari in our galaxy, but …." he paused not sure how to explain it.

"According to Vulcan star charts, there is a world called Denari in the K'Pellis Cluster which is also known as Cole one twenty eight," remarked Solon from across the room. "That world is not warp capable. It would be impossible for any of its residents to have ventured off world."

"And because they're so low tech, they wouldn't have been interest to any passing species," Tucker replied.

"However, the low tech environment may have been a viable location to harvest slaves," Solon pointed out.

"Ugh, you make it sound like the Anoree were just at the mall to pick up a few things," Zack remarked with a scowl. Solon made no comment.

Trip nodded in thought half ignoring McCann's comment. "Could a twenty two week old fetus survive outside of the womb?" Tucker asked McCann.

"In an advanced medical facility perhaps," McCann answered. "But based on Riley's injuries, I doubt it."

Tucker paced around the room and worked out the details aloud. "The day we were attacked Dempsey told us the Anoree and the Naree lived on the same planet. We've established the Anoree have fertility issues, so would it be safe to assume that it affects the Naree as well?"

"The hypothesis is valid," Solon replied. "However I would caution you on …."

"Assumptions? Work with me here Solon," Tucker finished the sentence for him and winked at the Vulcan, which got him a raised eyebrow in return. Tucker chuckled at his response. _Just like T'Pol, _he mused before moving on. "Elnora believes her mate who is a Naree fathered Riley's child. Riley told us that he didn't and she also said she didn't think they were compatible."

"Naree and humans," Gervase chirped trying to keep up.

"Right," Tucker nodded at the XO.

"Elnora seemed a little frantic when she was making her demands earlier," Gervase said finally understanding the whole scenario "So I'm going to assume that the child didn't survive its abrupt entranced into the world. She wants Riley back so she can try again."

"There's only one problem with that," McCann interrupted.

"What?" Tucker asked turning to face the doctor.

"Riley can't have another child. The butcher that ripped the fetus from her took nearly all of her reproductive organs," McCann replied frankly.

Gervase shuddered at the image the doc's words painted in his mind. "No wonder Riley thinks Elnora will kill her if she goes back."

"Riley doesn't know," McCann added. "I haven't had a chance to tell her yet."

Tucker stared at the floor, caught up in his own thoughts. _She wants the pod back, I should just give it to her….I already told her it was empty. I could rig it with some mini charges and detonate it when they try to pick it up, _he thought as McCann and Gervase rambled in the background. "Okay, that's irrelevant," he interrupted. "I'm not releasing Riley to anyone."

"Not to be eavesdropping … but what does she want exactly?" yelled out the voice of the Acting First Officer from behind the curtain. He jumped off the biobed and pulled the curtain back to join the other officers.

"The pod and its contents," Gervase replied. "But the Captain already told her that it was empty when we reeled it in and Riley thinks she'll kill her if we send her back."

"Then just give her the pod back." Rybaiski said firmly. "She wants to kill Riley, let's do it for her. Don't look at me like I'm crazy. I can rig the pod with some phony bio-signatures and mini-charges so when they attempt to hook it or tractor it in the pod will detonate. It'll look like an electrical failure occurred and she'll never know the girl wasn't in there."

_Great minds think alike, _Trip chuckled listening to Rybaiski's idea. "How fast can you do it?"

"Thirty, thirty five minutes," Rybaiski said shrugging his shoulders. "Less if Gervase helps."

"Make it happen," Tucker remarked. "Faster would be better," he commented as the two officers left the room. _I could have done it in ten by myself, he_ bragged quietly.

00-00

The stillness in the Captain's Ready Room draped the space like a carefully placed drop cloth. The view out the port window of the star field passing by was just blurred streams of light. Captain Charles Tucker the third dozed quietly as he laid back in his desk chair, his body stretched out the full length, his head cradled in the headrest, his feet propped on the window sill.

"Bridge to Captain Tucker."

Trip jumped slightly and was awake in a micro-second. He turned the chair to the left and hit the comm panel on his desk.

"Tucker here."

"Captain, we're ready to drop the pod," advised Ensign Cramer from the bridge.

"Okay," Tucker replied putting his feet down and sitting up in the chair. "I'll be right there." He stretched his arms over his head and took a swallow of the coffee sitting on the desk. "Ugh," he muttered at the cool murky taste of it. He flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and pulled the top drawer open looking for some breath spray instead. "Ah, here it is," Tucker mumbled aloud. He opened his mouth and squirted the mint-flavored liquid onto the back of his tongue as he stood and walked around the desk. He tossed the spray on top of the desk and walked through the door heading down the service corridor to the Command Center.

"How much time do we have left?" he asked as he slid down the railing into the room.

"Twenty two minutes to spare sir," replied Ganzer from the helm.

Tucker nodded and took his seat in the Captain's chair. A minute later Gervase and Rybaiski entered the room from deck two and walked up the access ramp. Gervase crossed the room and took a seat at the Engineering station.

Tucker looked back as the two milled around the room. "Commander Rybaiski, aren't you supposed to be in sick bay?" Tucker commented giving Stu a 'look'.

"I'm just going to sleep it off in my quarters," Stu answered sitting down on a stool on the other side of the work bar. He glanced over at Tucker's arm and noticed the brace on his wrist. "What happened to your arm?"

"Oh," Tucker mumbled as he looked at the brace. "Battle wound."

"Ah, looks are deceiving aren't they?" Rybaiski remarked shooting Tucker an all-knowing look. "She's a tough lil cookie!"

"Yeah, well, considering what she's been through she outta be," Tucker replied shrugging his shoulders. "Let's get this show on the road," he added trying to flex the fingers on his hand.

"Aye aye sir," Rybaiski replied to the Captain using a flimsy salute "Jonah, drop to impulse. Mr. Pierce, hail the Anoree vessel," ordered Rybaiski with a devious smirk on his face.

Ganzer slowed the ship to a crawl as Pierce attempted to contact the Anoree vessel. After three hails went unanswered, Pierce threw up his hands. "They're not responding Commander," he remarked, his brow furrowed.

"So much for her demands," Geri muttered under his breath.

Tucker blew a puff of air out of his mouth, stood up from his seat and stepped over to the helm. He put his foot up on the chair rail and leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee. He tapped on the terminal to bring up sensor data on the Anoree ship. "They're matching our speed and have stuck with us since she laid it out on the table," he reflected aloud to no one in particular. "What's the clock at now?"

"Seventeen minutes," Ganzer answered. "If you're looking for an opinion I think we should dump it and run," he said adding his own editorial comment.

Tucker stood up resting his hands on his hips. He bit his lip and looked back at Rybaiski. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Yes sir." Stu replied. "The poo-bomb is loaded and is rigged to detonate six seconds after any pressure is applied to the pod surface."

"The what?" Ensign Pierce questioned.

"A poo-bomb," Gervase interjected from the engineering station. "Is a technical term for fecal matter mixed with explosives."

"You're joking right? Pierce asked shuddering at the sound of it.

"No, we're totally serious," Rybaiski said. "Haven't you found any bags of flaming dog shit at your door?" He challenged the ensign with a serious tone.

"Ah, no," Pierce answered quietly. "Who leaves flaming dog crap at someone's door?" He looked in Rybaiski's direction. At first no one dared to answer the question, finally Ganzer spoke up.

"You know, I have four sisters, so I tend to think I'm an expert in the field of female psychology," Ganzer said turning around in his seat. "It's been my experience that if someone finds a bag of flaming poo on his doorstep that it has been placed there to convey a specific message."

"Which would be what?" Pierce asked looking up from his console.

"That the recipient is a piece of crap," Crewman Stone answered from the prep.

"Hence the reason why our First Officer has so much experience with it," Ganzer jabbed in to finish it off. He sat back in his chair with a smug grin on his face.

Muffled snickers could be heard around the room before Tucker snuffed out with a glare in Ganzer's direction that could have melted ice. The room went deathly silent as Tucker stared wordlessly at the main viewer.

"Captain….we, ah…. used the fecal matter so there would be a bio-molecular residue when the pod exploded," Gervase said sheepishly feeling the need to dig himself out of the hole that Rybaiski had buried him in.

Trip nodded to show he understood the reasoning but his thoughts were still elsewhere. When all he could hear was the chirping of the sensors, he turned around and faced the crew.

"I agree with Jonah," Trip said flatly. "Let's drop it and get the hell out of here." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I don't really need to talk to her again unless someone else does?" He looked around the room for any sign of confirmation and saw none.

"Commander Gervase, drop the pod. Jonah remained at impulse for now, set a course for the Starbase and be prepared to go to warp on my mark. Crewman Stone, keep a sensor lock on the pod and let me know if something happens," Trip ordered walking back to his stool.

"Aye aye Sir," the men said in unison, executing Tucker's orders.

"The pod's away Captain," Gervase called out from his station.

The room became eerily quiet again. There was no movement from the Anoree vessel. Tucker walked to the helm station and reviewed the sensor data. Phoenix was still traveling at impulse speed, but the Anoree ship had stopped. Tucker sighed heavily and turned around to face Rybaiski.

"I'll be in my ready room if anything comes up," Tucker announced to the bridge crew. "Commander Rybaiski, if you will." Trip locked onto Rybaiski's eyes and inclined his head toward the steps.

The minute they were behind closed doors, Rybaiski started to defend himself. "For the record," Rybaiski said standing in front of Trip's desk. "I have never had any flaming bags of anything left on my doorstep."

Tucker looked at his friend but said nothing at first. _I don't know if I should laugh at him or shove him out an airlock, Trip_ thought as he stared at Rybaiski. He heard the man ramble on in the background but it just infuriated him more.

"Honest Trip," Rybaiski added. "I may be a dog but…."

"Commander!" Tucker stopped him a little more sternly than he originally intended, but it caught the First Officer's attention. "I'm going to say this one time and one time only and I hope for your sake you are listening because your tenure on this ship is depending on it. You need to cut the crap _literally_. This isn't Mulligan's or the Shenandoah making a weekend trip to Jupiter."

Tucker paused and looked Rybaiski dead in the eye. "The way you acted out on the bridge just now was insubordinate. That flimsy salute and the smart aleck remarks … If that show is any representation of what the rest of the crew thinks of you, you're going to have a tough time of it on this cruise. You need to have their respect Commander and not be the butt of their jokes. At some point in your future you may have to order someone in this crew to their death and based on what I just saw … they're going to tell you to shove it up your ass!"

Trip turned toward the window and leaned against the sill. "I vouched for you to get you assigned to this crew. Don't make me regret that Commander."

The curt remarks hung in the air and burned through Rybaiski like venom as he inhaled. He knew he was in trouble when the Captain called him to the ready room, but he had no clue Tucker would hold his job over his head. Trouble was the Captain was right. _I've been making a fool of myself the past few days showboating around, he_ mulled over in his head as he tried to think of something to say to defend himself. He knew without any doubt that if the Admiral had been there, he would have thrown him out an airlock. Tucker was letting him off easy.

"I ah…. I don't know what to say, Captain," he stammered. He pursed his lips and clasped his hands behind his back. "I've let you down and I've made…."

Tucker turned from the window and put his hand up, like a traffic cop. "Stop," he blurted out caustically. "If the next phrase out of your mouth is an excuse, then you can stow it. I don't want to hear excuses for your behavior, Commander. You're the First Officer, not the class clown! Your priority needs to be damage control and quite honestly that includes earning some credibility back with me."

"Yes, sir," Rybaiski replied staring straight ahead.

"Report back to sickbay until zero eight hundred tomorrow. Dismissed." Tucker watched Rybaiski turn on his heel and leave the Ready Room. After the door shut Tucker picked up the breath spray from the desktop and fiddled with the container as he mulled over what he had just said to his friend. _The line between command and friends is invisible, _the words echoed in his head. Stewart had given the lecture to him when he approved Rybaiski's transfer from the Shenandoah to Phoenix. _There will come a day when you will be challenged to separate your duty from your friendship. Will you be up to it? _ Trip squirted the breath spray in his mouth and tossed it back in his desk drawer. He blew a puff of minty fresh air out of his mouth. "Yeah, ole man…. I just didn't realize it was going to happen six days into our tour."

"Bridge to Captain Tucker. The Anoree vessel is moving to intercept the pod," Crewman Stone called from the Command Center.

Tucker was pacing in his office when the call came from the bridge. He left the room quickly and jogged down the corridor to the half level below the bridge. "Put it on screen," he ordered as he ran down the stairs. The main viewer flickered and the image of the Anoree ship moving closer to Riley's escape pod filled the screen.

"Captain, looks like the Anoree are trying to hook a grappler line on it," Stone announced a couple of minutes later. "They're not very good at it I might add."

"Magnify that," Tucker ordered as he walked closer to the view screen.

The bridge crew watched the Anoree ship attempt to grab it, missing twice. The third time was the charm. The bomb went off cleanly six seconds later. It exploded into hundreds of pieces. The bridge crew went wild with cheers and high fives and continued to watch the action on the screen. The Anoree ship made no move after the explosion. A few minutes went by before anyone said anything. Tucker finally broke the silence. "Any comm traffic?"

"Negative Captain," Pierce replied monitoring all the frequencies.

"Mr. Stone, what's the Anoree vessel doing?" Tucker asked leaning against the table.

"Nothing Sir."

"Any indications that they scanned the debris?"

"Not that I can tell sir," Pierce answered.

Tucker stood from the chair stared at the view screen. Another five minutes went by before the Anoree vessel darted off in the opposite direction. Tucker tilted his head with a perplexed expression on his face. "Does anyone besides me think that was a little too easy?" he finally asked turning around to face the bridge crew.

"You got my vote," Gervase replied from the engineering station. "She threatens to blow us out of the sky and then runs away with her tail between her legs?"

"Is there any comm chatter? Any sign of the ship on sensors?" Tucker directed the question at Pierce, Cramer and Stone. The three men all answered no.

"Jonah, take us to warp five," Tucker ordered in disbelief. _Elnora, forget her, _the words he had told Riley earlier reverberated in his ear. He felt the ship shake slightly and then accelerate under his feet. "What our ETA to the Starbase?"

"At warp five, forty eight hours sir," Jonah replied matter-o-factly.

Trip scanned the room and settled his eyes on Gervase. "Commander Gervase, you have the bridge. I'll be in my quarters."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"What happened?" Elnora demanded as she stared in disbelief at the view screen. The image was littered with debris from the escape pod.

"I…ah… I don't know Mistress," stammered the engineer on the bridge. His hands flew over the console as he tried to determine the cause of the explosion.

"You don't know!" she screamed at him from her seat in the middle of the bridge. "First you can't hook the damn thing and now you have no idea why it blew up!" She jumped out of her seat and waved her arms around in the air like a mad man. "I want any remains of the slave salvaged!" She turned and glared at the man standing at the engineering station.

"Mistress…" he shook his head and lifted his hands from the console in frustration.

"What!"

"There _are _no remains Mistress," he replied. His scales laid flat on his head and his face flushed in embarrassment. "All I'm picking up on the scan is bio-traces of it. The body appears to have been….vaporized." He watched the Mistress's face flush with anger. _Oh shit, _he thought as he watched her tear across the bridge in his direction.

Elnora pushed him back from the console and stared at the readings from the pod. "Where? Show me where?" she shouted at him, grabbing his arm. The engineer brought the data up on the screen for her perusal. Elnora stared at the algorithms and wave patterns and shook her head. It didn't mean anything to her. She didn't know how to interpret them; the data was just numbers and symbols that meant nothing. She needed to see proof. "Magnify the pod on the main viewer!" she yelled out to no one in particular. Elnora ran to the screen and watched as the engineer enlarged the image of the debris field. She craned her neck at the picture and after a moment let out a high-pitched scream.

"No no, no, no, no!" She yelled out falling to her knees in front of the view screen. "This can't be happening! No!" She stood up from the floor and turned to face the bridge crew. "This can't be happening!" she screeched again. "Why did it happen?"

Silence enveloped the bridge as the crew all ducked their head and pretended to be too busy to respond to her demands. Finally, the Captain of the vessel stood from his seat to address her.

"Mistress, it appears to have been an electrical overload. I'm sure you'll remember that we salvaged those pods from a damaged Naree ship and the wiring was shotty at best. Quite honestly, it surprises me that it didn't explode when it was originally jettisoned," he replied evenly adding a chuckle at the end.

"You find that funny?" she yelled right in his face. "I want every piece of that pod collected and examined immediately."

"That's not possibly Mistress," the captain retorted firmly. "We do not have the means to retrieve it."

"You need to make it possible Captain," Elnora sneered inches away from his face. "I want every piece of the slave's body brought to me in a box."

He stepped back from her and took a deep breath "Mistress, as I said," he asserted himself. "There is nothing left of the slave. Even if I had the means to retrieve the pod in its current condition, it would be pointless to bring it on board."

"Do it or you'll pay with your life!" Elnora snarled in his face. The pupils of her eyes were slits and the irises turned blood red.

"Killing me will only delay your rendezvous with Levine," the captain dared to reply. "I am the only one that can pilot this bucket of bolts."

Elnora stood motionless in front of him and considered his statement. He was right in every sense of the word. While she might get some mild pleasure from killing him, it would only screw up her plan. He _was_ the only person capable of piloting the vessel. She growled in frustration and took a swing at the captain, connecting with his jawbone and knocking him to the deck. Once he was down on the floor, she ran back to the engineering station and slammed her fist down on the console. The glass cover shattered under the pressure and the shards embedding themselves in Elnora's hand. She stepped back from the console and looked at her fist, as the blood pooled in the cuts and ran down her fingers. She began to scream again and ran from the bridge.

Elnora stormed through the ship leaving a shockwave in her wake. Guards, attendants and slaves all ducked out of her way as she carved a swath through the ship to her stateroom. Those unfortunate to be in her path paid the price with bruises, cuts and broken limbs. She burst through the door to the stateroom, barely giving it time to open and immediately began throwing whatever she could get her hands on. Her tirade continued for several minutes until she collapsed in a chair still fascinated with the blood pouring out of the cuts on her hand. She sat that way for hours until she heard the door chime.

"Enter!"

An attendant peeked around the door as it was opening. "Mistress, there is an incoming message from your father's ship," the attendant notified her softly.

"Put it through!" she snarled, not moving from the chair. The attendant pushed a button on the panel just inside the door and the screen sprang to life revealing her father's aide Atar.

"Mistress," he said nervously as soon as he saw her. "I've heard from Levine. He has taken possession of the ship and had begun to separate the life forms."

"Wonderful," Elnora answered caustically.

"Are you okay, Mistress?" he asked carefully.

"I'm fine!" she snapped never looking at the screen. "Do you have anything else to say?"

"Ah, no," Atar replied frankly.

"Then stop bothering me!" she yelled. "Get him off the screen!" she bellowed at the attendant standing just inside the door.

Elnora remained holed up in her stateroom for the rest of the night. She requested attendants to bring her dinner and attend to her personal needs, however both of those males left the stateroom battered and bloodied. At first sign of day, the medical doctor on the ship arrived at her door to speak with her. Elnora's personal guard stopped him.

"I need to speak to the Mistress," the doctor said to the guard.

"You might not want to do that," the guard said sternly. "She's been in a mood all night. Everyone that has gone in there has come out with a black eye."

"You people just don't know how to handle her," the doctor said not giving in.

"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you," the guard replied and keyed the mechanism to open the door.

The doctor found Elnora still sitting in her chair. Dried blood covered her hand from the damage she had inflicted on herself the previous day. "Mistress, I need to speak to you about the seed," he said calmly as he stood next to her.

"The seed is dead," Elnora replied flatly. "What else is there to know?"

"Yes, well, I examined the corpse to confirm the DNA sequences for the hybrid project and I found some interesting results."

Elnora rolled her head to the side and looked up at the doctor. "What?" she asked completely put out that he thought he needed to interrupt her private time.

"The seed was not a hybrid," he said flatly.

Elnora stared at him for a moment before responding. "What?" she asked him.

"It was not a hybrid," he repeated. "The seed was humanoid. It was not a product of your mate."

"That is impossible!" Elnora screamed rising up from the chair. "Jarvick told me himself that he impregnated it!"

"He may have thought he planted the seed. I ran the test several times. There is no Naree DNA in the sample. It is purely humanoid."

"No! No, no, no!" Elnora screamed standing up from the chair. She paced around the room. "Jarvick assured me that he fathered it. I monitored the fertilization intervals," she argued.

"Yes, Mistress, but did you confirm the DNA once you knew it had been impregnated?" the doctor watched her carefully. When she didn't answer, he continued. "Mistress, my tests are conclusive. The Naree are not compatible with the humanoid host."

"No! The slave has already carried a Naree Hybrid to term," Elnora argued as she paced around the room.

"The slave carried a humanoid seed to term that was _genetically_ _altered _to appear Naree," the doctor countered. "The Naree that it mated with was sterile. Which brings me back to my original point regarding the Hybrids, the only way it will work is to alter the geno after then seed is at term. Mating between Naree and humanoid or even mixing the DNA is not a viable option anymore." he remarked flatly. A moment later, he wished he hadn't opened his mouth.

Elnora turned around at his last statement and stared him right in the eye. The doctor shuddered at the cold-hearted stare and the emotionless expression on her face. _Oh shit, _he thought as he backed up, trying to get to the door before she could touch him. He never made it.

Elnora was on him in seconds attacking him physically like a cage animal on a piece of meat. At first he tried to fight her off and then attempted to just defend himself but between the punching, kicking, hair pulling and biting, the Mistress took the doctor down and beat him until he no longer resisted. The last thing the doctor remembered was Elnora standing over him with a knife in her hand.

Outside the room, the security guard was acutely aware of the scuffle that was taking place as it wasn't the first and it certainly wasn't going to be the last. He waited patiently for the Doctor to come barreling out of the stateroom and couldn't wait to tell him _I told you so_. Soon enough the door to Elnora's suite opened, but no one emerged. After a minute, the guard turned and stepped into the doorway of the stateroom. The view horrified him.

The Mistress was covered in blood from head to toe. The doctor lay dead on the floor, his neck and chest slit wide open.

"Get this piece of trash out of here," she growled at the guard and walked slowly into the interior of the room.

The guard stood motionless at the door, his eyes trailing from the lifeless form to the shadow of the Mistress in the interior of the room. The guard called for assistance from the attendants waiting in the corridor and together they pulled the body out into the hallway. As soon as they were clear of the entryway, the door to the stateroom slid shut again, locking the Mistress inside with only her conscious for company.

The guard looked down at the doctor's shell and shook his head. "I told you so," he whispered quietly and motioned for the attendant's to take it away.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail," muttered Trip as he reviewed the subspace messages on his computer. "Why do I need to know the marketing department is having a potluck on Thursday? The yoga class scheduled for six hundred hours at HQ has been cancelled? Crap! I was gonna go to that." He clicked the delete button without even reading over half the messages in the inbox. When the door chime rang, it was a welcomed distraction.

"Enter!"

The door to the Ready Room slid open and Lieutenant Hoshi Sato stepped through. "Captain, am I disturbing you?"

"No," he replied turning from his computer screen. He waved at his computer in frustration. "I was just about to get sucked into email oblivion."

Hoshi smiled at the comment. "The docking protocol checklist is complete. Captain Williams's assistant called and said the Captain needs to see you in his office immediately," Hoshi remarked. "With an emphasis on the _**A-S-A-P**_."

Trip rolled his eyes. "His assistant? Did you respond for me as my unofficial assistant?"

"Yes sir," she replied with a half grin.

"Thank you. Anything else come up during docking?"

"No. Everything went according to procedure. The department heads are moving supplies as we speak," she replied. She remained standing in front of his desk.

"Is everything ready for the ceremony tonight?

"Yes Captain," she remarked her tone riddled with annoyance. "You and the Admiral, you two don't give up do you?"

"Hey I'm getting it as much as you," Tucker defended himself. "The ceremony is really important to the Admiral and it's killing him that he has to MC the affair over the vid screen instead being here personally. He sent me four emails on just the ceremony last night and that was after I talked to him for over an hour about it," Trip commented turning his computer monitor for her to see.

Hoshi leaned over his desk and glanced at the monitor and then started to laugh. "I guess I'm lucky. He only sent me one." She glanced at Trip, held his gaze for a moment, and then bit her lip.

"Is there something else you need to talk about?" he asked her when he noticed she was biting her lip, one of her nervous habits.

"What makes you think that?"

He laughed and pointed at his lip. "You chew on your lip when you're nervous. Have a seat," he offered pointing at the chair. "What's up?" he asked as she walked toward the chair.

"Have you made a decision about Riley?" she asked sitting down. "I was just curious, not that it's really any of my business," she added looking at the top of his desk to avoid his eyes.

"It is your business considering you're one of the few people on the ship that she'll talk too," he said reassuringly. "The Admiral and I spoke about her last night and cleared it with Starfleet Medical. She's staying on board for now. Our medical team can give her the same rehabilitation that she would get on the Starbase, probably better. Our setting is controlled and more conducive to Riley's adjustment. She has to learn to trust people again and I strongly believe that leaving her at the Starbase would be no different than dumping her off at a slave market. I couldn't do that to her and the Admiral agreed with me." He noticed the change in her body language and watched her make eye contact with him. "You look relieved."

Hoshi smiled. "I was just worried that the Admiral would think she is unnecessary baggage."

"Don't tell me he's got you snowballed with that 'iron fist' persona," Trip chuckled.

"Don't worry Captain, I've seen the other side of him," she answered. "It seems to be a common theme ….Riley said the same thing about you," she smiled.

"What? When did she say that?"

"I had dinner with her last night," she remarked. "I think the game of checkers gave you away," Hoshi replied arching her brow at him.

"She's a quick study. She beat me two outta three," he said with a laugh.

"Are you sure you didn't let her win Captain?"

"Hoshi, it's Trip in here," he reminded her.

"I'm sorry," Hoshi laughed sheepishly. "You've been my commanding officer for so long that it's habit."

"Well, I hope you think of me as more than just your boss," Trip remarked with a pouty look on his face. "You didn't call me Cap'n when we were playing softball."

"Do you call Admiral Archer, Jon?" she quizzed him.

Trip shook his head. "Sometimes." He tilted his head in thought. "Mostly I call him Cap'n. You can't use that analogy though. My relationship with him is different. "

"How's it different?" Hoshi replied laughing.

"I don't know, it just is," Trip replied defensively. "Maybe because he yelled at me too much. In the entire time I've known you, I've only yelled at you once, and that wasn't even a real chewing out … I just scolded you a little."

Hoshi was quiet as she recalled their encounter in the corridor just before they felt space dock. _That was more like a big brother talk, _she thought. _I guess I see him like the big brother I never had. _ "Okay, Trip," Hoshi remarked emphasizing his nickname. She stood up and walked around the desk to the door and turned back just as Trip walked up behind her. She gave him a mischievous grin. "Don't forget about the senior staff meeting at sixteen hundred."

Trip laughed and hit the button to open the door. "You're reminding me about a staff meeting I scheduled?" he caught the expression on her face and remembered his ill-fated staff meeting days ago. "Okay … never mind. I'm on my way to Williams' office. You have the bridge Lieutenant," he said. He walked down the corridor to the turbolift. "Don't take crap from anyone. Remember shoot first, ask questions later."

"Aye, aye sir."

00-00

Trip surveyed the generously furnished 'reception area' of _Captain_ William's office, the Commanding Officer of Starbase One. "Geez, this place is nicer than my apartment," he muttered to himself while waiting to see the Captain. _So much for getting here ASAP,_ he thought as he stood in front of the assistant's desk.

"You can go in now," the lieutenant said, directing him to the door.

Trip entered the inner office of Captain James Williams. He had known the man for half his adult life. They had attended the academy together and moved up the ranks at nearly the same pace. While Trip excelled in engineering and his love of exploration, Williams was more of a diplomat and negotiator. When Enterprise was on its maiden voyager, Williams held the rank of Commander and was Admiral Forrest's right hand man. He made it into the field for a short time as the commander of an interplanetary hop, but now he held the big chair as Captain of Starbase One.

As Trip walked through the door, he noticed Captain Williams speaking to Admiral Ford on the view screen above his desk. _Oh shit, this can't be good, _Trip thought as a sensation of impeding doom settled over him. Williams waved him in and motioned for Trip to sit wordlessly. Tucker settled himself in the chair as a queasy feeling invaded his stomach.

"Admiral Ford, Captain Tucker just joined us," Williams said turning the video feed so Tucker could see if from where he sat.

"Captain Tucker," the admiral greeted him from his office at Starfleet Command. "How's Phoenix?"

"She's running fine sir, now that we have the kinks worked out," Tucker replied evenly noting the Admiral did not look happy. He was sure the condition report was a ruse to build up to something else.

"Hmmm, I see. Well, I'm sure you are aware that Admiral Stewart was an opponent of the design of the ship from the start. He said putting the nacelles under the saucer was a recipe for disaster," Ford smirked shaking his head. "Your first foray proved him right. I guess."

"Ah, Admiral, there's nothing to worry about. My team already has a plan in place to make sure that doesn't happen again," Tucker replied defending his ship and crew. His suspicions was spot on, although there was no way he could have predicted the bang Ford was about to deal him.

"Well Captain, I didn't request your presence to discuss the mechanics of the ship," Ford remarked and suddenly became very uneasy in his seat. "I ah… don't really know how to say this to you … so I guess I'll just come straight to the point. Admiral Stewart is dead."

Tucker didn't comprehend Admiral Ford's words at first. He was expecting him to say, captain you've been replaced or captain you're being recalled or even captain you're fired … but Admiral Stewart is dead. Trip was blown away.

"Wha….:" he stammered as his mind backpedaling to the previous statement. "He's …. I ah…." Trip couldn't even speak. He winced just thinking about it. "I just talked to him last night," he muttered barely audible.

"As you can imagine, his death came as quite a shock to all of us. He died in his sleep, a family member found him this morning," Ford continued almost oblivious to Tucker's distress.

Starfleet officer's are trained to deal with death and in the ten years Tucker flew on Enterprise he certainly had his share of crewmen and fellow officer's die. He dealt with the death of his sister and even his own child. This was the first time he had to deal with someone that he considered his mentor, his commanding officer…and somehow it was just seemed different.

Tucker shook his head and refocused on the conversation, realizing that Admiral Ford hadn't missed a beat. Trip looked at the video feed of Ford. The man appeared disheveled and out of sorts for lack of a better word. He was rambling about details that were irrelevant to Phoenix, to Tucker, to any part of his team. _Everybody rambles, _Trip noted. _Even the big dogs can fall. _He smirked at the notion remembering a conversation he had with Stewart, in the backyard of his house, sitting under an old oak tree. The memory overpowered his focus and he lost track of time for a moment.

"Captain?" Tucker tuned in the voice. It was Williams sitting across the desk from him. He had a look of concern on his face.

"Sorry," Trip mumbled focusing on Williams and finally at the view screen. He didn't know how long they had been trying to get his attention. He watched Williams get up and walk to the credenza to pour a glass of water.

"Captain, my condolences go out to you and your crew," Admiral Ford said, appealing to him personally. "Admiral Stewart always spoke highly of you. In fact, that made my next decision much easier. Effective immediately, you are the Commanding Officer of Phoenix. I know you have some decisions to make regarding your staff. I've asked Captain Williams to help you in that regard."

"Thank you sir," Tucker replied, barely believing his ears. _I thought Ford hated me, _he thought taking the glass from Williams. He took a sip of the water, the icy coolness waking him from the fog and sharpening his senses.

"Admiral Stewart requested a burial in space," Ford continued without taking a breath. "Obviously Phoenix needs to be the ship executing that request, unfortunately, that will need to wait until after you've completed your mission. Captain Tucker, I know you've been briefed on the basics of the mission to rendezvous with Columbia, however, what I'm about to tell you is Classified Red, level nine security and above only."

00-00

Ten hours later, Captain Tucker shuffled slowly into his ready room, unzipped the jacket of his uniform and collapsed on the couch. To say he was exhausted was an understatement. His day derailed after he received the devastating news about Admiral Stewart, Tucker barely had two minutes to himself, let alone T'Pol. _Someone even chased me down in the head, _he grumbled to himself as he recapped his day mentally.

Tucker barely knew if he was coming or going after receiving the classified briefing from Ford regarding the Columbia mission. He made notifications to McCann and the rest of the crew regarding Admiral Stewart's death, hosted the Sr. Staff meeting, and attended an informal memorial service for Stewart in the mess hall. Somewhere in between, he managed to spent time with Captain Williams discussing ship personnel and an hour with Admiral Ford discussing promotions. He wasn't done yet; Stewart's promotion ceremony was scheduled for twenty hundred hours. _ I just need to shut my eyes for a few seconds. T'Pol or Hoshi will find me if I'm needed, _he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

He couldn't have been dozing for more than five minutes when the doorbell for the ready room chimed. _Frick! _Trip cursed to himself as he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the room. He pushed himself off the couch and walked over to the comm panel on the wall. "Who is it?" he grumbled into the speaker.

"Captain Williams."

"Enter," Trip mumbled as he half sat/half fell into the closest chair. He leaned his head against the back of the cushion and ran his hands over his face just as Captain Williams entered the room.

"Geezus Trip," Williams blurted out. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," Trip retorted as he pushed himself off the chair. He walked over to the drink dispenser and ordered a glass of water. "I sure in the hell feel like it. Boy what I wouldn't give for a "do-over" today," he muttered. He drained the glass of water in one gulp and ordered a refill. "With some of the variables removed, obviously."

"Understandable," Williams agreed. He sat on the couch and surveyed the room with a perplexed expression on his face. "Is this room a little bigger than normal? I don't remember the schematics for the new ship's showing this much space for the ready room."

Trip chuckled and pointed into the air. "This isn't the ready room officially. It's the Admiral's office. Check this out," he said opening the door to the head. In what appeared to be a closet was a modest sized latrine equipped with a shower unit. "He used to sleep here ya know, during construction."

"What?" Williams coughed out in astonishment. "He slept in here? What about his stateroom?"

"That was before it was finished. That puts the captain's quarters to shame. King size bed, food dispenser, in room laundry, huge whirlpool tub..." Trip rattled off the amenities and he and the Captain laughed at the comforts the Admiral had planned to afford himself on their voyage.

"You should take it over now," Williams replied after a moment.

"Ah, no," Trip replied quickly. "I offered it to T'Pol, but she thought it would be more practical to use it as guest quarters." He finished the second glass of water and set the empty glass on the desk.

Williams nodded his head in agreement. "You two hot-bunking it?" he asked Trip.

"No, no way," Trip scowled and shook his head. "Same deck, but different room. We're keeping it on the D.L."

"Good idea," Williams said agreeing with him. "I um….talked to Admiral Ford before I came over here."

"Oh Geezus," Trip muttered under his breath. _Can't the guy give me a break? He's already ruined my day, _he thought privately.

"Nah, don't get all paranoid. It wasn't anything like that Trip. You impressed him today," William said reassuringly. "And me for that matter. I can see that Stewart and Archer have groomed you well. Your astute evaluation of your crew and recommendations for promotion show leadership and maturity in decision making," the captain remarked.

"Thank you," Tucker replied sheepishly. "Are you trying to butter me up Jim?"

"I heard you haven't decided on the First Officer yet," Williams ventured carefully.

"That's a true statement. I told the Admiral that I wanted to wait awhile on that and he said he would defer to my judgment."

"Well, I'd like to throw another name into the ring," Williams remarked. He reached into his pant leg utility pocket and pulled out a PADD. He handed it to Tucker. "I think you're familiar with him."

Tucker glanced at the PADD. "Catch McCann? Yeah I'm familiar with him," Tucker scowled. _ Should I laugh or chuck the PADD in the trash? _Trip thought as he read the information.

Lieutenant Commander Shane "Catch" McCann was Zack's brother, elder by four years. Physically he was nearly Zack's twin, only slightly more muscular. He was another of Trip's academy classmates, although the man was hardly his friend. McCann had been an athletic star in high school and college, and earned his nickname for his versatile ability to play any sport. At the academy he was full of himself and a bonafided ass-kisser. What he lacked in leadership, he made up for by charming his way into the pockets of the brass. He moved up the ladder quickly, promoted to the point of incompetence, as Trip liked to call it.

"I dunno Jim," Tucker remarked setting the PADD on his desk. "He and I don't exactly have the best track record."

"You aren't going to hold a grudge for something that happened twenty years ago are you?" Williams asked him.

"No, it's not that," Trip said defending himself. "I served with him on Columbia. He didn't do much to welcome me on the crew."

"He's changed since then," Williams said getting up and pacing around the room. "The incident on the Piper four years ago did it."

"He was the commanding officer wasn't he? Wasn't it something about deviating from the flight plan and colliding with a civilian vessel?" Trip asked trying to remember all the details.

Williams took a deep breath. "The civilian vessel had a Romulan warp signature. McCann fired on them, they got into a battle and the civilian ship exploded. Eight crewmen from the Piper were killed."

Tucker thought about it for a second. "He got court-martialed for that?" Tucker questioned not understanding.

"He was court-martialed because he wasn't supposed to _be_ in that sector, he had deviated from his flight plan for _recreational_ reasons," Williams said arching his brow to imply the nefarious nature of the recreation. "He could have gotten away with it scott-free because his crew was willing to lie and back him up. Instead, he told the truth and took full responsibility of the incident. He lost his rank, dropping from Commander back to Lieutenant and served time in the brig," Williams replied as he paced around the room.

"And you want me to consider him for First Officer?" Tucker questioned arching his brows at Williams. Of all the officer candidates Admiral Stewart and Tucker discussed when staffing Phoenix, Catch's name had never once come up. Tucker bit his lip as he thought about it and listened to Williams's pitch.

"I had the same reaction fourteen months ago when he was presented to me as a candidate for Head of Security," Williams countered. "I took a chance on him and I've never regretted it. He's rebuilt his reputation and credibility on his own, not on his uncle's coattails. In the past three months he has been more of a First Officer to me than my real First Officer."

Tucker walked to the window and stared out at the docking pylon that was holding the ship in place. A feeling of déjà vu came over him, remembering the conversation he had with Stewart not even two weeks ago in the same room, on this same topic, with a similar backdrop. _Take a chance, _Stewart had said to him that day. _I'm already second-guessing Rybaiski's ability to lead, _Trip thought as he stared out the window. _Never once did Stewart bring McCann's name up to me … maybe the reason was Catch needed to find his own way. Archer and Stewart had my back when Starfleet didn't …. William's has McCann's back while everyone doubts him. Where would I be without someone backing me up? _

"I'd want to see him in action," Trip stated turning around to face Williams. "Can you spare him for the rendezvous with Columbia?"

"Whatever it takes," Williams said with a satisfied grin on his face.

Trip ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek while he figured out where he would assign him. "We depart tomorrow at zero nine hundred. Have him report before we shove off, Trip said.

"Thanks Trip," Williams replied extending his hand. "You won't regret it."

_I just hope Stu can handle a little more competition, _Tucker thought as he watched Williams leave the room.

00-00

"I gotta what?" Commander Rybaiski exclaimed completely shocked at what his Captain just informed him. He had reported to the Captain's ready room after dinner expecting to hear his trial period was over and he was officially the First Officer of the ship. Instead the Captain informed him he was still in the trial period. To make matters worse he would be sharing the duties for the mission with LCDR _Shane_ McCann. _The biggest a-hole in Starfleet! One flaming dog shit comment and I have to kiss Tucker's butt for the rest of the flight? _ "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Tucker rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "Granted," he muttered officially. _Why ask now? You've been out of line since you came in here, _Trip noted as he stared at his friend.

'You're kidding me right? Catch McCann?" the shocked expression still covered Rybaiski's face and he shook his head. "I out rank him!"

"There's a little more to the first officer position than just the title Commander," Tucker replied flatly. "You're being evaluated for leadership, team development, interpersonal, adaptability and your ability to work cooperatively with others."

"Unbelievable … un-fricken-believable!" Rybaiski grumbled the entire time Trip was talking. He barely heard anything the man had said. Stu stood up from the chair he was sitting in and paced around the ready room. "Are you outta your mind? That guy's a fricken idiot!"

"Lock it up, Commander! You're out of line!" Trip sternly called him out. Tucker watched Rybaiski guffaw and turn to stare back at him.

"Sir. I just …. I….I don't get it. One infraction on the bridge and you write me off?" Rybaiski questioned, as he looked Tucker in the eye.

"It wasn't just one infraction…." Trip started and stopped himself when he felt anger boil up in his throat. "I'm not writing you off Stu. I'm giving you a second chance," Tucker said after regrouping. "Look maybe it's my fault because I left you with the impression that I wanted things more relaxed around here … I don't know. But tomorrow morning, we start with a clean slate."

"And competition," Rybaiski added.

"What makes you think you didn't have any competition before?"

The comment stumped Rybaiski and left him speechless. _I had competition before? Who? Gervase …Colonel Lynch? _he thought realizing that he hadn't even considered it. "But Catch McCann? You hated him at the academy, we both did," Stu mumbled as he tried to figure out who else was in the running.

"That was twenty years ago Stu, people change," Trip countered.

"It's because he's the Admiral's nephew," Stu muttered under his breath.

Tucker couldn't believe Rybaiski's audacity. "You need to open your eyes Commander because you are not immune to the scrutiny of those at Starfleet Command. You're one of my closest friends and if you think for one minute that _no one_ is taking note of that …. You're damn naïve. I could care less whom LCDR McCann's related too or how I felt about him twenty years ago at the academy. What I did consider is his accomplishments in the past four years and the glowing recommendation of his commanding officer. I just raised the bar and suddenly you're worried about a little competition? You were the Admiral's golden boy, so now's your chance to show me what you can really do."

Rybaiski was silent as he listened to Tucker's words. He was right of course, _again. _ He chuckled to himself at the irony of it all.

"You find that funny Commander?"

Stu ran his hand down the bridge of his nose. "Can I go back to speaking freely, sir?"

"Yes," Tucker answered.

"They teach you to spew all that bull at captain school or something?" he asked Tucker with a country boy drawl. "No, it's that damn Vulcan logic isn't it? Geezus, I can't even fight back when you get like that! All these little lectures you feel compelled to give," he paused and curled his lip. "I can't even defend myself." He threw his hands up in frustration.

"Well maybe if you'd stop acting like an idiot you wouldn't need to defend yourself," Trip replied sighing once again. He looked at the chronometer on the desk. "Are you about done? The promotion ceremony in the mess hall starts in five minutes," Trip looked at Stu and waved his hand at the chronometer.

"He's my only competition right?"

"Stu, I'm not answering that," Tucker said as he walked to the door leading out of the office. "If you're so afraid of losing the job, maybe you need to turn it up a notch."

"Are you serious?" Rybaiski whined still trying to find out information on the competition.

"Captain's privilege, Commander," Tucker replied. "Are you coming with me or do I need to present your department promotions without you?"

00-00

"I have one final promotion to announce tonight. This one is very special to me," Captain Tucker said as he was closing the promotion ceremony. "This person served with me on Enterprise during its maiden voyage and one month into our trip she told me that she was going to ask the captain to take her back to earth because she wasn't _suited_ for space travel." Trip said locking his gaze on Hoshi sitting in the middle of the room. He watched her smile and bit her lip as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back the tears.

"Of course that was just after her first away mission to an alien vessel where the entire crew had been murdered. She was scared to death…shoot we all were, but she was brave enough to admit it. She even tried to kill me once, unintentionally of course. We were on an away mission and some alien virus infected us. I passed out and she took over the controls. She told the captain she could fly the pod," Trip paused and chuckled at the memory. "Honestly, I think she lied … cuz she crashed into the ship about six times before she managed to line the pod up with the launch arm."

"I've had the unique opportunity to watch her grow into a fine officer and everyday I'm thankful that she didn't quit because she was scared that first year. A little fear is good for you, it keeps a person on their toes," Trip paused and scanned the crowd, watching heads nod in agreement. "I present to you Lieutenant Commander Hoshi Sato."

The crew erupted with applause as Hoshi stood and weaved her way to the front of the room. Her face was flushed with astonishment at the captain's unexpected announcement and as she approached the podium, she felt tears escaping from her eyes. She stood solidly in front of the entire crew as she raised her right hand and recited the oath, in respect to naval tradition.

"You're out of uniform Commander," Tucker said as he shook her hand congratulating her. "Chief Roman, do you have something more appropriate for her to wear? Tucker asked the Quartermaster who was standing to his right.

"Aye, aye Captain," Roman answered pulling a new jacket with yellow piping on the epaulets.

_You are fatigued Th'y'la, _T'Pol said to Tucker through their bond as she watched Hoshi shed her science uniform jacket and accept the command jacket from the quartermaster.

Once Hoshi was situated in her new jacket Trip pulled her into an unexpected hug. _I've had better days, _Trip replied to T'Pol as he took the liberty of hooking the eyelet on Hoshi's uniform top. He looked back at the stewards waiting outside the galley door and nodded his head, motioning for them to serve the champagne needed for the final toast.

_In light of the other events that occurred today, it would have been wise to reschedule this ceremony, _T'Pol remarked as she worked her way across the room.

_I couldn't, I told you that earlier. It was the Admiral's last request. When I spoke to him last night he made me promise to make a big deal of the promotions, especially Hoshi's. _ Trip stepped back up to the podium carrying a flute of champagne and tapped the side of the glass to get everyone's attention. "Everyone …. I'd like to propose a toast," Tucker said clearing his throat and scanning the faces in the room. The entire crew of the Phoenix, one hundred twenty in total, stood before him. When he was sure that everyone had a glass of champagne and was directing their attention toward him, he continued.

"One hundred years ago, Zefram Cochrane flew into space in the first warp capable ship named Phoenix. Tomorrow morning we will leave Starbase One to begin our journey in space as explorers. And we will go in the fastest ship in the fleet, the Phoenix. We were all hand picked by Admiral Stewart for this mission. While we'll leave with heavy hearts, we will grieve together and we will succeed together because the Admiral wouldn't have wanted it any other way." Trip held his glass up in the air. "To Admiral Stewart!"

"Here, here," the group responded. The room quickly filled with chatter from the crew as they milled around and celebrated their teammate's promotions. Trip made his way through the crowd, talking to his crew and handing out congratulations along the way.

Trip finally made it to the doorway after about fifteen minutes and leaned against the framing. _I'm gonna cut out here darlin, _he called to T'Pol as he surveyed the room. _I could sure use some neuro-pressure later. _ Tucker turned and walked from the mess hall to the turbolift at the end of the hallway.

_Since I am now the senior officer on the deck, I will see if I have time on my social calendar, _she replied sarcastically.

_Oh, you got jokes now, _Trip chuckled as he stepped into the turbolift. _I could order you, you know. _

_I will take in under advisement Captain, _she replied teasingly.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Part II

The chronometer on the PADD read zero six twenty five, as Commander T'Pol keyed in her access code. She left her quarters and headed down the corridor of deck two scanning her email as she walked. Her mind was cluttered with Trip's thoughts making it harder to focus on her messages. She lowered the PADD in frustration and called to him mentally.

_Th'y'la, you are disturbing me, _she scolded him.

_What? What'd'ya mean?_

_I don't need to know your entire day's itinerary. If I need you, I know how to find you. _She stepped inside the turbolift and pressed the button for deck one_. _

_O…kay … you seem a little crabby, darlin. _

_I am not crabby, _she replied emphasizing every word_. However, I may need to meditate later. Neither of us had much rest last night. . _

_And that's my fault?_

_Yes, it is. Now, I need to prepare for my department meeting at zero eight hundred. _

_Oh, that's why you scampered off this morning? So take it you're not going to join me for breakfast?_

_I'll consider it, _she replied to him flatly just as the turbolift door opened on deck one.

T'Pol surveyed the bridge as she entered from the aft lift. Damaged conduits from the unprovoked attack still hung from the rafters and the workstations for engineering, science and communication were in a state of disarray. Members of the damage control team bustled about reconnecting computers and rewiring systems. The sparks from a welding torch caught her eye on the port side of room. She nodded in acknowledgement of the crewmen working and slide quietly into the tactical station.

The quiet hum of the repair teams was white noise to her ears and allowed her to focus on retrieving the data she needed. She worked quickly bringing up reports and transferring the necessary files to the science lab on deck four to prepare for her meeting.

"Fire in the hole!"

The shout caught T'Pol's attention and she looked up from the console with a perplexed expression on her face. A crewman in the center of the room pointed at the ceiling and T'Pol quickly exited the tactical seat just as debris began to shower around her. A second later, a large piece of conduit bounced off the computer display, which she had been working, and crumbled to the deck. T'Pol scanned the hole above the station and was startled to see a dirty bluish gray face looking down at her.

"Sorry Commander," Lieutenant Dempsey yelled as he realized he had nearly clocked her. "I didn't know you were sitting there."

"Obviously," she replied caustically digging through the rubble for her PADD. She heard the Andorian drop out of ceiling and land on the deck next to her

"This isn't the safest place for you to be working right now, ma'm," he explained as he looked around the room. "The Captain wants this cleaned up before we leave at zero nine hundred. You should move to the science lab on deck four. It took minimal damage and there shouldn't be anything falling out of the ceiling."

"Indeed," T'Pol muttered finally spotting the PADD laying face down on the floor. She squatted down to pick it up, only to find the display completely shattered. She stood and turned to face the Andorian. "In the future Lieutenant, I suggest you notify the department heads of the areas that are under construction so that no one is put in unnecessary peril," she said curtly. She shoved the damaged PADD in his hand and turned to walk toward the aft turbolift.

"I'll get this fixed for you Commander," Dempsey said waving the PADD in the air. "I'll get it back to you by our staff meeting at zero nine thirty."

"See that you do," she said to him as the turbolift door open. She stepped in, pressed the button for deck three and the door slid shut.

Dempsey stared at the door and glanced around the bridge after she left. His antennae dipped forward on his head in a curious manner. _What the frig just happened? I need to inform the department heads? Read your fricken email lady! The bridge is closed for repair! _he cursed staring at the broken PADD in disbelief. He heard a footfall in the service corridor and looked up just as Commander Rybaiski walked onto the bridge. "Thank you!" he yelled in the direction of Rybaiski still miffed over Commander T'Pol's remarks.

"For what?" Rybaiski asked. He stopped in his tracks and looked around the bridge in confusion.

"I just got my ass handed to me on this broken PADD by Commander T'Pol because I nearly conked her on the head with ceiling debris," Dempsey shouted, his voice riddled with anger. He noticed the repair team giggling at him. "You think that's funny? It's not funny!" he yelled in their direction, which immediately shut them up.

"T'Pol?" Rybaiski said with the same confused expression on his face. "What was she doing up here?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I was in the crawl space with the burned out conduits," he said flinging the PADD across the room. It crashed against the view screen and broke in several pieces. "And those idiots," he grunted pointing at the repair crew. "Thanks!" He threw his hands up in frustration and paced across the room in the direction of the view screen. "I don't need a fricken notation in my service record that I tried to kill the second highest ranking officer on the ship! Thanks for telling me that she was sitting there!"

"Sir, there wasn't any time, you fired the warning shot and the ceiling fell," one of the repair crew mumbled shrugging his shoulders in frustration.

"How long was she sitting there before I yelled?" Dempsey howled glaring in their direction and pointing back toward the tactical station.

"How were we supposed to know you were going to throw crap on the floor?" the team lead argued back. "You said you were just going up there to look at the damage."

"What the hell else was I going to do with it?"

"Enough!" Rybaiski yelled out at the bickering engineering team. The repair crew had been up all night finishing the bridge repairs and nerves were getting a little frayed. "Power down!" he said waving his hands in the down direction. "We don't have time to be bitching about what just happened. You guys have two hours to get this mess cleaned up," Rybaiski said sternly directing his comments to the repair team. He walked over at Dempsey who was still clearly fuming about the incident. "Breathe Lieutenant," he said noticing Dempsey's antennae lying back on his head in the I'm_ completely pissed off_ position. "I'll talk to the Captain about it as soon as I'm done," he said as he stepped over to the helm station to work on re-wiring it.

00-00

T'Pol stared at the floor of the turbolift as it descended, her mind still rattled about the incident on the bridge. She blinked her eyes and refocused her thoughts on the upcoming department meeting. When the turbolift doors opened, she took a step and stopped. _I thought I pushed the button for deck four. _she pondered staring out on the deck. The thick food aroma from the mess hall teased her nose and for the first time that morning she thought she could eat. _Perhaps I will join Trip for breakfast after all, _she decided stepping out of the lift. As she walked toward the Captain's mess, she brushed the soot from her uniform. She passed fellow crew members and nodded in acknowledgement to them. T'Pol continued down the hallway, passing the main mess hall and turning into the corridor that led to the Captain's private dining area. When she keyed the door open, she found the room empty.

_I thought you wanted me to join you for breakfast. _she called to her mate through the bond.

_I do. _

_I'm in Captain's dining room, _she began to reply.

_Oh,_ he interrupted. _I don't eat breakfast in there. I'm in the main mess hall._

She thought about it for a moment then turned around on her heel. T'Pol found Trip at a table by the window surrounded by a mixture of junior officers and enlisted crewmen. They were all participating in a hearty discussion that she tuned in while picking her food.

"Who's picking the movies?" a male crewman asked.

"Lieutenant Ganzer from Gamma shift," Tucker replied.

"Not Ganzer," the group moaned.

"That geek will pick all horror flicks," said a female ensign sitting next to Tucker.

"Which are some of the best movies ever made," argued Tucker.

"Oh, no," Hoshi butted in. "I had to put up with that on Enterprise. Just because you're the Captain doesn't mean I can't over-rule you on the movie choices. I'm the head of the Communication Department and I think movies fall under my jurisdiction."

T'Pol turned from the food dispensary and let the conversation from the Captain's table drone on behind her. She scanned the room for a different seat and noticed Solon sitting by himself near the door. She picked up her tray and walked in his direction. "Is this seat taken?" she asked when she was within earshot of him.

"No Commander," he replied moving his tray out of her way. "Please join me," he said motioning at the empty chair. He watched T'Pol with curiosity as she sat down at the table and systemically arranged her bowl of oatmeal, banana and cup of tea in front of her. He was equally amused as she peeled the banana, then cut it into slices with her knife and then spooned it on top of her cereal.

"Interesting choice of breakfast food," he finally said just as she began to eat it.

"I developed a taste for it on Enterprise," she replied after taking a sip of tea.

Solon eyed her carefully. "Curious, I saw Captain Tucker eating the same thing," he replied taking a sip of his coffee. "Funny things that we pick up from our mates," he added slyly.

"Indeed," she replied eyeing his empty cereal bowl. "And your breakfast?"

"Corn flakes with fresh strawberries," he answered calmly. "Coffee with cream," he added tipping the cup for her to see.

"An odd choice as well," T'Pol replied. She was quiet for a moment, reflecting on the various conversations she had with Trip about Solon over the past few months. She didn't remember him being so humanlike. "I'm curious Lieutenant…"

He interrupted her by holding up his hand. "Please, call me Solon," he said emotionless. "The Starfleet rank was given to me by Admiral Stewart as a way to legitimize my being onboard. I am here as a civilian physician and to be with my husband, unofficially of course."

"Of course, Solon," T'Pol repeated. "Do you consider yourself V'tosh ka'tur?" T'Pol asked him frankly.

"No, Commander," Solon replied not surprised by her frankness. "I explored the practice in my youth; however, I find logic to be essential in my work."

"Yet you chose to openly live an alternative lifestyle," she remarked as she ate her breakfast. She found herself at ease discussing the matter with him, which was odd for a Vulcan. Vulcan's were normally very private about such matters.

"Many Vulcan live alternative lifestyles, it's unfortunate that our society is not as forgiving to those who do not follow the main stream doctrine. I'm sure you will agree, since your choice of bond mate has been rather controversial," Solon replied in a conversational tone. It was not his intend to upset T'Pol, but to let her know he was on her side.

T'Pol arched her brow and nodded. "It was not my choice for our relationship to become so …. public," she replied quietly.

"There comes a time in our lives when we need to stop living for public acceptance. I, myself, took a traditional mate to appease everyone else."

"I wasn't aware of that," T'Pol replied finding it interesting that Solon had a female mate considering he made no qualms about his homosexuality.

"She was a colleague of mine at the university. I was drawn to her because she also followed an alternative orientation. We were married for eleven years, but never lived together or bonded for that matter," he replied matter-o-factly. "She was also a doctor."

"Where is she now?" T'Pol asked.

"She was assigned to Cold Station Five and was killed during the Romulan attack. After her death, my brother suggested that I stop feeling the need to appease our family and live my life for myself. A year later, I met Zack. I worked at the hospital down the street from the Earth Embassy on Vulcan. I have never regretted my decision to make my orientation public. It is who I am," Solon replied stacking his dishes on the tray for the steward that was coming around the room.

"It's commendable that you are not in fear of living for yourself," T'Pol replied mildly curious about his candor. "And your family, are they as accepting?"

"My mother has always accepted me at face value. It has taken my father some time to understand, however, he appreciates the differences. My family is very comfortable with Zack." Solon took a final sip of his coffee and stood from the table. "Now if you'll excuse me, Commander. I have patients to attend."

T'Pol took a sip of her tea and continued to eat her breakfast alone. As she sat, she considered Solon's comments and reflected on her own relationship with Trip. She didn't want their relationship to become mess hall fodder as it had on Enterprise. Their separation for the past year had been difficult. The bond she and Trip shared was powerful, but has its physical limitation. Waking up next to him this morning was comforting. The sensation of his touch calmed her emotions and balanced her in ways she couldn't understand. _T'Pol from the other Enterprise was right about him, _she recalled. _I would not want to be without him. _

_Well I should hope not, _Trip remarked as he made his way to her table from across the room. _Those daydreams of ours are nice, but nothing is better than actually feeling you next to me. _He slid into the seat next to her, winked at her and crossed his arms at his chest. "So you didn't want to join me for breakfast?"

"You seemed preoccupied," she replied eating the last bit of oatmeal. "It is an interesting concept to eat breakfast with your staff and allow them to see a side of you beside command."

"Thank you," he replied. "I know it's not Starfleet doctrine, but command is about managing people, not just giving orders. This lets me get to know people and talk to them." Trip surveyed the remaining crewmen in the room. "I think it sends a message that I'm here for them, not cut off by eating alone in the Captain's mess.

T'Pol's lip curled ever so slightly. "As I said, it is a good idea."

"Are you prepped for your meeting?" he asked her with an innocent expression on his face. He blocked his thought from her.

"More or less," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I just talked to Rybaiski." He said crossing his arms at his chest. "You wanna tell me what happened on the bridge?"

T'Pol eyed him carefully as she sipped her tea. "I don't know what you are talking about," she replied curtly.

"Dempsey's really ticked," Trip said quietly. "He said you dressed him down in front of junior crewmen. I thought that was ridiculous because you would never…."

"I _hardly_ dressedhim down," T'Pol replied rolling her eyes.

Trip bit his lip and nodded. "What were you doing up there anyway?" Trip asked trying to get her side of the story.

"I needed to pull information from the navigational logs for my meeting and I merely suggested that he notify the department heads before they began to work in a section to minimize injuries." T'Pol replied plainly. She looked over at Trip and recognized the laughter in his eyes. "I was completely within my rights. The ceiling above the tactical station where I was working nearly came down on my head."

"Completely within your rights?" Trip repeated as he pulled his PADD out of his pant pocket.

"As the second highest ranking officer on this vessel, I have the right to reprimand any officer that is junior to me," T'Pol rationalized tilting her head at him with an annoyed expression in her eyes.

Trip nodded his head. "You didn't happen to check your email before you went up to bridge did you?" he asked with an innocent grin on his face.

She stared at him, trying to read his thoughts but he was blocking her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He set his PADD on the table and tapped a few buttons, then slid it in front of her. "Because if you _had_ read your email, you would have seen a construction notice from Commander Rybaiski regarding Bridge Repairs," he said pointing out the message in question. "He sent it yesterday."

T'Pol picked up the PADD and read the notice regarding the repairs. _The bridge is off limits to all personal until zero eight thirty hours tomorrow morning, _she read silently. She set the PADD down and looked at her mate who was still giving her that look of his.

_I think you owe Dempsey an apology, _he said holding her gaze. He reached under the table and put his hand on her leg.

"You want me to apologize," she repeated slowly.

"Yes. Even the second highest ranking officer on my ship can admit she was wrong once in a while," Trip said looking at her with a hopeful expression.

"I'll consider it," T'Pol replied flatly. She reached down and intertwined her fingers with his with brought a smile to his face.

_I know you don't exactly trust Andorian's, but Dempsey is different. It will go along way to building your relationship with the Chief Engineer. You might help someday and who better to have on your side? _

_I already have the best engineer on my side, _she commented letting go of his hand. She picked up her mug and took a sip of tea.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, but not off the hook for the apology," Trip said sincerely.

"Fine," she said flatly. "I will apologize."

"That's my girl," Tucker whispered in her ear as he stood up behind her. He discretely trailed his fingers over the tips of her ears and walked around her chair out of the mess hall.

T'Pol's eyes widened as a jolt of electricity shot through her, ignited by his breath on her ear and his gentle touch on her lobe. She definitely missed his physical presence.

00-00

"I'm going to miss you Catch," the muffled female voice said in his ear as he hugged the slim brunette tightly. He stroked her hair and pulled back from their embrace.

"It's just a temporary assignment, Carri," he reminded her as he kissed her one final time. "I'll be back in four months," he whispered, running his finger down the side of the woman's face.

"You're not coming back," she said as tears escaped from her eyes. "I'm just going to keep telling myself that. Then when you do come back, it will make our reunion better." she said hugging him again. "I'll never forget you," she whispered letting go of him. She turned away and walked slowly down the hall.

"Carri!" he called to her as he watched her go. He waiting for her to turn around, but she never did. "I'll be back," he muttered walking the rest of the way to the airlock by himself. "I have to come back, all my stuff is here."

He looked at the chronometer on the wall near the airlock as he walked around the corner. _Seven thirty, _he read as he stared at the numbers. He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. _I thought I'd never see this day again, _he thought as he reflected on the last four years.

_Commander_ Shane McCann was cocky and arrogant when he was put in command of the interplanetary ship the Piper. She was a glorified people mover and his crew only numbered twenty-three, but Catch was proud to be her captain. Those guys in his academy class that thought they knew so much … Williams, Tucker, Rybaiski, Rollin, Marshall, they all held the rank of Commander as he, but were either assigned to Starfleet in some paper pusher position or on a ship answering to someone else. Not Shane "Catch" McCann… he was _the man_ on his own ship.

That arrogant "I can do no wrong" attitude nearly cost him his life. During the war, the Piper had been assigned to run supplies between Earth and the front lines. One of McCann's crew made a business proposition with him that in addition to running supplies, they could run _entertainment _as well.

It seemed innocent enough in the beginning. Pick up a couple girls as _passengers _and sell their services for a small fee during the off-loading of the supplies. The customer's seemed happy and he was making a nice buck. Things began to get a complicated as the war waged on and he had to falsify ships logs to cover his tracks when picking up the girls. One of those "covers" led him right into the path of a renegade Romulan freighter loaded to the gills with explosives. The firefight that ensued took the lives of eight of his crew, but saved the intended target of the flying bomb.

While Starfleet was grateful that McCann had foiled the Romulan's plans, they had many questions as to what he was doing there in the first place. Catch was stuck between a rock and hard place while trying to decide if he should lie or tell the truth. Nearly half of the crew said they would cover him if he lied since they were involved in the scheme. If he covered up the deviations, his people would be cleared of any wrongdoing. If he told the truth, many would have to pay the price. He teetered on the morality tightrope of life until the day he attended the funeral of his helmsman, Ensign Tandy Gifford.

Gifford was not one to hold her tongue. She was vocal and argued with him often. In the beginning, the thrill of the argument enticed him. She always had an opinion and it was always in conflict of his. When McCann became so caught up in the _recreational _scheme that it blinded him, she became his conscious, constantly arguing about the morality of what they were doing every time they did it. There many times that she would refuse to follow his orders, but she relented when he threatened to court-martial her for insubordination. He even put a bogus reprimand in her file to make her believe he was serious.

On the day of the attack, Gifford had argued with him again, but this day she did it openly in front of the entire bridge crew. Then she refused to pilot the ship, refused to touch any button on her console, even when security held a phaser to her head. McCann relived her of duty and sent her to her quarters. Little did he know at the time her quarters would become her grave.

During the second volley of phaser blasts, Tandy had tried to leave her room to return to the bridge just as a conduit ruptured and exploded outside her door. McCann found her crumpled body in the corridor during the search for survivors. He pulled her into his arms as she took her final breaths and the last words to come out of her mouth were _the truth for me. _As McCann stood in that cemetery, listening to the trumpeter playing Taps and the sobs of Gifford's family, he could hear Tandy's voice in his ear reminding him of what he needed to do.

Out of the surviving sixteen members of his crew, nine were brought up on formal charges and quietly ushered out of the service. McCann was found guilty at his own court-martial and after a heart-felt plea by his uncle, Admiral Stewart, he was sentenced to ten years in the brig and a dishonorable discharge. He was reactivated to duty when the war took its toll on Earth and Starfleet. The court shortened his prison term and demoted him two ranks. Shane had plenty of time in the brig to think about the man he had become and how impaired his judgment had been those last few months. It had disgusted him to think about the bridges he had burned and how he let so many people down, the people that trusted him with their lives and those that loved him like a son.

When he got out of prison, he resolved to be a different person and made the most of his life lessons. He was humbled by the reality he had to serve under his classmates, the same men and women he had mocked earlier in his life. He earned respect with people that considered him lost and worked his way back up the ladder. He proved he was worth advancing on every single rung.

When Williams' had come to him last night to inform him about his temporary assignment to Phoenix, Catch was stunned. Even in the wake of his uncle's death, Phoenix was still his ship. The crew was hand selected by the man he considered a father. While honored to be selected for the assignment, he was scared to death for the first time in his life. McCann knew his uncle was watching and somehow in the pit of his stomach, knew he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"That's not going to happen this trip," Catch resolved as he worked up the nerve to walk down that jet way. "On my honor Gifford, I am not going to screw this up," Catch muttered as he thought about the look in Gifford's eyes as she died and the sadness on his uncle's face when he delivered him to prison. He took a deep breath and pushed all the negativity away. _Here's goes nothing, _Catch thought as he began the walk down the jetway.

00-00

CDR Rybaiski stepped out of the turbolift on deck five and nearly ran head on into CDR Gervase as he came around the corner. His mind was on other things, specifically Leslie, and he was not paying attention to the oncoming traffic as he exited the lift. He had just come from sickbay when McCann had informed him that Ensign Chambers would be leaving the ship. _The scans indicated a small tumor. She needs surgery immediately to remove it, _McCann had said to him. _I could do it here, but Starfleet feels it would be better to transfer her to the Starbase for the treatment. _The words echoed in his head and the grim realization was he only had minutes to say goodbye.

"Commander," Gervase said sidestepping to deflect the impact of their bodies crashing together.

"Whoa, sorry Geri," Rybaiski muttered flipping his hands out of the way. "Coming to welcome the new guy?" Rybaiski asked Gervase after the collision was over.

"Yeah, just checking out the competition," Gervase mumbled as walked down the hall next to Rybaiski. "McCann and I are …ole friends," he added.

"Really?" Rybaiski replied looking back at the Denobulian. _I friggen knew Tucker was looking at him for first officer! That's so bogus! Big whoop that he served ten years in the Denobulian security department, he's only been in Starfleet six years tops! _Rybaiski stopped short just outside the airlock and turned to face the Commander.

"Yeah, it's a long story," Gervase muttered. _I was a guard at the brig where he served his prison sentence, not exactly sharable information, _he reflected as he heard Rybaiski baiting him for more information.

"Really?" Rybaiski cajoled crossing his arms at his chest. "I'd like to hear it."

Gervase looked at Rybaiski and made his decision. "Suffice it to say we worked together at Starfleet," he said firmly with a tone that meant drop it. He looked over at the MACO officer standing at the air lock checking crew and supplies in. "Where's the Captain?" he asked changing the subject.

"He should be along in a minute," Rybaiski said leaning up against the wall. "He's escorting Ensign Chambers down on her transfer."

"She's transferring?" Gervase asked. He looked back at Rybaiski with a scowl. "You two have a falling out?"

Rybaiski sighed heavily. He wished that was the reason she was leaving the ship. "Starfleet medical transferred her because of something the doc found in her scans after her injury. She has to have surgery and based on our mission profile, it is safer for her to have it at the Starbase." He turned his head away from Gervase as he felt his emotions getting to him. He pushed them away and looked down the corridor when he heard the cargo lift opening up. "Here they come."

Gervase could sense Rybaiski was a little emotional about Chambers leaving. He stepped behind the MACO security detail, started pushing buttons, and pretended to be reading the display to give Rybaiski some space. The anti-grav cart, Doctor McCann, the Captain and two male med tech's wearing Starbase uniforms slowly made their way to the airlock. When they got closer to the doorway, McCann locked the cart down allowing the tech's to prep Ensign Chambers for the transfer to the Starbase.

"Wait, hold up," Tucker said stepping to the side of the cart before the med techs lifted her off. "Don't get too comfortable lying around over there Ensign," Tucker joked with Chambers as she lay on the cart. "We'll pick you up on our way back to Earth." He could see the tears brimming in her eyes and tried to lighten her mood.

"Don't worry Captain," she said quietly.

"I've already talked to Dr. Phlox," Trip said. "No funny business either … and that includes table dancing," he said winking at her.

"Captain," she growled. "You promised me that what happens at Mulligan's stays at Mulligan's" she said as Gervase, Tucker, Rybaiski and McCann repeated the words with her. Chambers was quiet for a moment and bit her lip as it started to quiver. The tears began to run out of the corner of her eyes, which affected everybody standing in the airlock.

"Hey, there'll be none of that," Zack said patting her on her shoulder. "This temporary just like we talked about upstairs."

"I know," she sniffled her voice barely audible. "I just don't want to go."

"Just think of it as a vacation," the med tech at her feet said to her reassuringly. "No work, just lying around and getting pampered. Ted can even give you a massage," he said nodding toward the med tech standing at her head.

"I give good massages," Ted said handing her a tissue.

"Looks like you have it made, Les," Rybaiski remarked, winking at her from the sidelines. It was killing him inside to watch her leave the ship and every fiber of his being wanted to stay with her. Tucker had even offered it twice, but he refused. _I have a job to do here, _he reminded himself. _I won't become First Officer hanging out at the Starbase or winning Tucker back from my flaming demise. _

Tucker squeezed her hand gently. "There's no crying in baseball, ensign," he said trying to work a smile back out of her.

"I know," she mumbled, taking a breath. "Permission to disembark sir?"

"Permission granted Ensign," Tucker said. He helped the med techs lift her stretcher off the grav cart and watched them carry her out the door while Rybaiski helped the doc clear the cart from the airlock.

Tucker sighed deeply and looked at McCann. "That was harder than I thought it was going to be," he said blinking a few times and putting his hands on his hips.

"She _is_ coming back right?" Gervase asked still standing by the airlock.

McCann glanced at Tucker before responding. "If her recovery goes well," McCann said shrugging his shoulders.

"There'll be none of that talk, she'll be back," Tucker said firmly noticing Rybaiski had stepped away from the three and was resting his head, face first on the bulkhead, halfway down the hall. Tucker walked down to talk to him. "Stu," he called when he got close.

Rybaiski straightened up and turned his face from Tucker. "Yeah," he replied trying to act as if he was okay. He wiped his eyes and sniffled before turning around.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with her?" Tucker asked him again. It was actually the third time he had asked his Chief Engineer if he wanted to transfer to the Starbase temporarily to be with Ensign Chambers during her surgery. It was obvious to Trip that Rybaiski had real feelings for the Ensign, probably for the first time in his life.

"I'm sure Trip," he said. "I'm not good at that stuff. I told her that I'd be in touch everyday," he mumbled. "She's pissed at me anyway."

"Stu she's not pissed at you," Tucker tried to reason with him. "She's emotional, that's all. She just found out that she has to have brain surgery and she's twenty light years from her family. You could be a little more sensitive," Trip remarked trying to defend the ensign.

Stu held his hands out in frustration. "I don't know what to do. I'm not good at this relationship stuff ….What do you want me to do?"

"It's seven forty five. Go be with her. Get her settled in the medical bay and stay with her for the next hour," Trip said pointing at the airlock.

"Is that an order?"

"Do I need to make it one?" Tucker said handing Rybaiski his communicator. "Here."

Rybaiski bit his lip. "Don't leave without me," he muttered as he headed down the hall to the airlock.

"Don't worry," Trip replied following his acting first officer. _Geezus, was I such a dork about relationships when I was single? _Trip wondered as he walked down the hall. When he got to the airlock he found LCDR Shane McCann standing at attention.

"Permission to come aboard sir," the commander barked out as he stood rigidly in front of him.

"Granted Commander," Trip replied mentally wincing at the formality of it. "This is CDR Gervase, our Executive Officer," he said introducing Gervase. "That's Sergeant Taylor Stevers and Corporal Kris Benning, our MACO security officers," he inclined his head. "I'm sure you know your brother," Trip said finally gesturing at Zack and chuckling.

Shane shook hands with the officers at the airlock as they welcomed him aboard. "Was that CDR Rybaiski I saw running up the jetway?"

_Running, _Trip noted. "Yes, he's on a … special assignment before we leave," he replied. "Chief Roman has set up quarters for you on deck two. Oh, speak of the devil," Trip said as the chief appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Chief Lopez Roman, Quartermaster and resident Jack of all Trades, LCDR Shane McCann," Tucker introduced the two men.

"Welcome aboard Commander," Roman said shaking hands. "Another McCann? oh krice," the quartermaster chuckled. "Well, I won't hold your brother's flaws against you," Roman laughed.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Zack mumbled staring at the floor. "I'll remember that Chief the next time you need a medic down on deck ten."

"Sticks and stones," Roman started and was quickly interrupted by Tucker.

"Ah, that's enough," he said rubbing his neck. "Commander, Chief Roman will get you squared away before we shove off. We have a senior staff meeting at zero nine thirty hours, conference room zeta, deck two. I'll meet with you in my ready room at zero nine fifteen to discuss your assignment for the mission." Tucker inclined his head. "As you were."

00-00

Riley paced around the small room, the crew quarters that seemed only slightly larger than her cell. She stared at the chronometer on the desk until the numbers blurred in her vision. _He said he'd be here at eight o'clock, _she thought as she contemplated her future. So much had happened to her in the past few days. She had gone from being a slave to aliens, to beaten and nearly killed, dumped in space and left to die, to finding out that humans were not just a fantasy in her dreams and finally knowing that her brother was still alive. _That's a lot for a fifteen year old, _she realized as it all played back in her mind.

Riley pulled out the chair to the desk and sank into it as her fate came rushing up at her. She felt nauseous and swallowed hard trying to push the feeling away. She looked down at her trembling hands and tried to wring them to regain control. _Jarvick's man was in the arboretum yesterday, _she rambled. _The Captain is late….because he is getting ready to get rid of me, she_ theorized as she felt the tears start to roll from her eyes. _He lied to me, _she cried irrationally just as her doorbell chimed.

"Enter," she replied climbing out of the chair and putting her back against the wall. Riley wiped the tears from her face as she watched him enter the space. She noted one of her ever present guards, Melanie Montag, stepping in behind him and remaining just inside the door. "Captain," she said, her voice barely cracking above a whisper.

"Sorry I'm late, I had some things come up," Tucker said shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "Captain stuff," he added as he noted the apprehensiveness of her stance and the red-rimmed eyes on her face. "Why don't you have a seat," he said in a calming tone.

Riley shook her head and started to wring her hands again. "I ah…." she stammered, mouthing words that had no sound. "Nervous," she finally sputtered out. She was wringing her hands harder and could feel her whole body trembling. _Might as well just say it and get it over, _she thought as she saw him take a step closer to her. "Have you come to put me off the ship Captain?" she blurted out.

Tucker paused understanding her demeanor and chided himself for not taking the time to talk to her personally last night. _Why did I think I didn't have five minute? _he thought as he watched her tremble in front of him. "No," he said simply watching the gamut of emotions wash over her face.

"No? I don't …," Riley's voice trailed off as she processed what he said. "I don't understand."

Tucker covered his mouth with his hand nervously and tilted his head. "No, I'm not putting you off the ship. You're staying here, just like I told you the other day. Didn't Hoshi talk to you about that yesterday?" he asked her trying to stay as non threatening as possible.

"Yes."

"Then why would you think I would tell you different?" Her response was quick and sharp.

"Because that's what happens to me Captain, people lie!" she snapped. "I've seen the hunter! You say you're not going to get rid of me? Why is he here? I don't believe anything you say … it's all lies!" She paced back and forth in front of him looking for a way to escape. "You are no different from the rest. You know how many times people have tricked me into trusting and promised me that I wasn't going to get hurt, that," she paused as her voice became riddled with sobs and she tugged unconsciously at her ear lobe. "That they would let me go or take me home or how many warm meals and hot showers I was given and then woke up to find myself tied down to a cot and someone forcing themselves on me. Or being cut because it gave someone pleasure to watch. Or how many things I just let things happen because fighting back was harder and enduring it was the only way I could survive!" Riley paused again and could feel his eyes boring into her.

She looked everywhere in the room refusing to connect with him and moved away when he reached out for her. "I was a little girl, taken by monsters that didn't even care. Held by people that thought I was a piece of property like an old shoe! You ask me to trust you, but I don't know how. You say I'm not your prisoner, but there's a guard outside my door and when I walk down the corridor people stare at me like I'm a whore. I didn't ask for these marks on my arms, but they're there … and they'll label me for life! I'll never be anything but a slave," Riley continued to ramble. She was so caught up in her tirade she was almost unaware that Tucker had put his hand on her shoulder and walked her to the bunk. At some point she heard her words become sobs and watched her sight become blurred and the captain's voice faded to just a distant rumble in her ears.

"Get a medic in here."

00-00

Tucker stepped out of the turbolift and scanned the bridge. The haphazard wiring and seared computer panels that had plagued the room for the past couple of days were gone. A lone member of the damage control team swept up the final bits of debris in the corner. Alpha shift was settled in their seats and working through pre flight protocol checklist. LCDR Sato was working at the communication station with a dusty LT. Dempsey leaning over her shoulder.

"Captain on deck," announced the ensign at the tactical when he glanced back at the lift to see who had entered the bridge.

Trip watched the crew snap to attention with a crisp precision that made him smile. "As you were," he replied. He crossed the bridge and stopped at the Comm. "Lieutenant, how are the repairs coming?" he asked Dempsey.

"Done, sir" he said wiping his brow. "Well, except a small glitch in this console."

"I think I got it," Hoshi said as she punched some buttons on the panel. "I'll work on it once we're underway. In the mean time Ensign Braidi can run the comm from the workstation by science," Hoshi said looking up at Tucker and back to Dempsey.

"Good work, Demps," Tucker said as he stepped behind Dempsey to the other side of the station. "See you later."

"Aye sir," Dempsey replied as he headed for the turbolift

"Dempsey," Hoshi grabbing at his sleeve and pulled him back to her. "Take a shower before the staff meeting. You stink."

Dempsey turned back to glare at her with an expression that caused the entire bridge crew to laugh, including Tucker. Tucker watched the Lieutenant smile and sniff at himself as he walked toward the turbolift Trip felt a sensation of déjà vu as the light, but professional atmosphere replaced the stressed crushing feeling of the past few days. _That's the way I like it, _he thought quietly.

"Pre-flight check list is complete, sir," Ensign Sullivan stated from the helm.

Tucker looked at the chronometer on the console in front of him and noted the time. _Zero eight thirty. I'll give him a few more minutes. _

"How'd it go?" Hoshi whispered to Trip as he stood next to her console.

"It didn't," he replied leaning over and resting his hand on the top of the console.

"What do you mean? Did you forget?" Hoshi asked giving him a mean look. "Sir," she added as an after thought.

"No, I went down there," Trip started to explain and looked up scanning for open ears in the room. He glanced at Hoshi, motioned her to follow him, and then walked down the ramp toward the Ready Room. Once safely inside the office he continued. "I went down there and she had a melt down. She's in sick bay now,"

"Sick bay?" Hoshi glared at him in disbelief. "Did you yell at her?"

"No, I swear. Scouts honor," he said crossing his chest. "She was convinced I was going to put her off the ship and when I tried to tell her I wasn't she freaked out. She went off on this tirade about all the crap she's been through and then she hyperventilated and fainted."

"I don't understand it," Hoshi said biting her lip. "She seemed okay last night."

"The cabins on deck five are a little small," Trip remarked thinking about something Riley had said earlier.

"What do you mean? They aren't that small, at least they have a shower/latrine in them which is more than the cabins on deck seven and eleven have," she replied not understanding where he was going with it.

"They are that small when you spend the entire day locked inside staring at the walls with no outside view," he said crossing his arms at his chest. "You're mind starts playing tricks on you."

"Point taken," she agreed. "Maybe yesterday's incident set her off," she mumbled.

"Maybe. Call Montag and Kuhlie up here," he said. While they waited for them to arrive Trip ordered water from the drink dispenser. "Did you ever notice that Riley tugs on her ear lobe a lot?"

"Yeah, it's like a nervous habit," Hoshi replied. "Kinda like me chewing on my lip."

Tucker nodded his head. "What if it means something," he remarked and took a drink of water

"What do you mean?" Hoshi asked quizzically.

Tucker set the glass down and turned to look at her. "Something she said when I was in her room….that people tricked her into trusting and lied to her by telling her things that weren't true," he answered. "She said that to me before but it didn't click. How did they communicate with her? She was abducted when she was ten or eleven. She's speaks pretty good English for someone that hasn't been around English speakers for four years."

"Maybe she can speak other languages?" she chuckled as the doorbell to the ready room rang.

"Have you heard her speak other languages? Enter," Trip said. The door slid open and Sgt Melanie Montag and the Andorian exchange office, Corporal Kuhlie walked in.

"No," Hoshi replied as the two walked in.

You wanted to see us sir?" Melanie reported in.

"Yes, at ease, come in, have a seat" Tucker said when he noticed the two standing ramrod straight. He pointed at the couch across the room and then watched as the two security officers walked over there. "Tell me what happened yesterday with Riley." He said. He sat against on the armrest of the chair and crossed his arms at his chest. "You're not in trouble," he said clearing the air. "Commander Sato and I are just trying to figure something out."

"We just took her off ship for lunch. Commander Rybaiski gave us the okay. He suggested I loan her some civies so she didn't have to wear her warm ups," Melanie said. "We went to the arboretum, sat on a bench, ate and just chatted for a while." Montag shrugged.

"She was fine until we were getting ready to leave," Kuhlie said. "We were coming out of the garden area and she just snapped."

"What do you mean by that?" Tucker asked.

"It wasn't anything obvious or flamboyant, but we could tell the difference. One second she was fine and the next she was a nervous wreck," Kuhlie added. "I took security scans as soon as she flipped," she added handing the PADD to Tucker. "She asked if she could go back to the ship and practically ran to the airlock."

"Was there anyone around?" Tucker said as he paged through the scan.

"There were a lot of people around," Melanie said. "The arboretum was full of people when we first got there and she was a little nervous, but okay. When we were leaving, there were just a couple of people left."

Tucker nodded and handed the PADD to Hoshi. The image on the display was of Riley with her hand holding onto her ear lobe. "Has she spoken in any other language when you two were around her?"

"She did when she was in the cell, right after we found her," Kuhlie said. "The night you talked to her, she was talking in her sleep, but no language I've ever heard."

"Wait," Melanie said holding her hand up. "Just now in sick bay, when she woke up. She was mumbling something that I didn't understand and the UT didn't pick up on it," Melanie remarked as the memory flooded back on her.

"And yesterday when we were leaving the garden, we passed someone that was talking in another language," Kuhlie added putting her arm on Melanie's leg.

"Was she pulling on her earlobe?" Hoshi asked mimicking Riley's habit.

"Yes," they both answered.

Tucker locked eyes with Hoshi. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Translator?

"Translator," Hoshi said at the same time as him and nodding her head. "But where? Not on her body, we would have found it during her medical exam."

"Ear clip," Trip said snapping his fingers. He walked over to the wall safe and keyed in the combination. He opened the door and pulled out a bag containing the three items, the bangle, a ring and the ear clip, and handed it to Hoshi. He looked over at the chronometer and noted the time of eight fifty seven. "The doc said the clip was embedded in her ear." Tucker remarked. "See what you can find before the meeting," he said closing the safe.

"Aye, sir," Hoshi replied. "I could use some help," she added directing her comments to Montag and Kuhlie. The three women stood and left the Ready Room with Tucker following along behind.

Tucker walked up the ramp and noticed T'Pol sitting at the science station and Commander McCann had taken the seat at tactical. Ensign Roberts had moved over to the Communication Station and was running a diagnostic on it. Stu was nowhere in sight.

"Ensign Braidi, ring Commander Rybaiski on his communicator," Tucker said.

"Bridge to Commander Rybaiski."

"Rybaiski here."

"Pre flight is done Commander," Tucker called to him. "Are you coming or are we shoving off without you?"

"I just cleared the airlock sir," Rybaiski replied panting into his communicator. "I'm on my way to the bridge."

"Ensign Braidi, status of the crew?" Tucker asked walking over to the command chair.

"All department reporting, sir. Stand by." She paused a moment and punched a couple of buttons at her panel. "Sir, all crew is present and accounted for," she remarked.

"Ensign Sullivan, take us out one quarter impulse," Tucker directed as he heard the aft turbolift open.

"Aye aye Captain, one quarter impulse," the ensign repeated as the Phoenix disengaged from the airlock and pulled away from the Starbase.

Rybaiski strolled through the doors and noted Commander McCann sitting at the tactical position. He confidently walked past him and walked to his seat next to Tucker.

Once the ship was safely backed away from the docking ring, Tucker called out the next order. "Ensign, once we're clear, set a course for the Benzar system, Warp five."

"Aye aye sir," the ensign replied as he hands flew over the controls and he set course.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

A/N This is a really long chapter. At one point I had it separated into a few smaller ones, but then the story exceeded my acceptabe chapter limit, so I clumped it all together. Enjoy and review!

Chapter 15

Captain Tucker sat quietly in his command chair reading emails on his PADD as the Ensign Sullivan piloted the ship along the first leg of their course to the Benzar system. Trip glanced to his left to see what Rybaiski was up to and noticed his acting first officer catching some zzzz's in the command chair. _He is not sleeping, _Tucker thought taking a second look. _He's sleeping! It's five after nine for kricesakes! Well, he was awake all night fixin the bridge, _he thought as he closed his eyes for a moment.

_Oh, no, no, no, I cannot resist bustin him. That's what you get when you make yourself a target! _Trip rationalized as he planned his next move. He scanned the room to see if anyone else had noticed Mr. Rybaiski's cat nap. Trip made eye contact with Roberts, Tori and Braidi, all sitting quietly at their consoles watching the Commander as his head bobbed in the chair. Trip put his finger to his lips and quietly stepped over to the helm console, resting his foot on the rail. He leaned over the console and punched a couple of buttons which set an alarm off at empty comm station directly behind Rybaiski.

The Commander jumped up on the third beep and his PADD clattered to the deck. The color drained from his face and then flushed crimson red. He jerked his head around in a panic to see what was going on or what he had missed. The junior bridge-crew played the ruse out perfectly, displaying their best poker faces. Tucker turned to look back at Rybaiski slowly for fear he would laugh in his face.

"Sorry Commander didn't mean to wake you," Crewman Tori remarked as straight faced as an Andorian could be. Even her antennae remained in a non-descript position on her head. "We're just running diagnostics over here." She played the whole thing off with a casual wave.

Tucker turned his head the other direction and covered his mouth with his fist, pretending to be coughing as opposed to laughing. He could hear Rybaiski cursing under his breath as he retrieved his PADD from the floor and sat back down in the chair.

"Sick bay to Commander Rybaiski." It was Hoshi's voice on the comm.

Rybaiski punched the comm pad in his chair. "Rybaiski here," he snapped.

"Could you come down here sir? I need your assistance."

"Gladly," Rybaiski growled. He stood up and stomped off the bridge to the turbolift.

Once the door was shut, quiet laughter could be heard around the bridge. Trip stood up from the helm and looked over at the three crewmen at the workstations.

"Don't look at us, sir," Tori said speaking for the group. "You started it."

"I started it?" Tucker chuckled pointing at himself. He walked toward the Ready Room. "I'm not the one that fell asleep in my seat." He stopped at the ramp and looked at McCann who was observing the dynamics of the bridge. "Commander," Trip called to him motioning with his head to follow him to the Ready Room.

LCDR Shane McCann rose from the tactical station and followed Captain Tucker into the Ready Room on the port side of the bridge. He was amused at the shenanigans that had just taken place among the bridge crew. He nodded appreciatively knowing his uncle would have done the same, probably worse than what Tucker had just pulled off. McCann walked through the door into the ready room and did a double take. The room was bigger than any ready room he'd ever seen. It was almost the same size as his quarters. He must have had a dumbfounded expression on his face because the Captain called him out on it.

"Problem Commander?" Tucker asked.

"It's been a while since I've been on a ship," McCann said looking around the room. "But I don't remember the ready room's being this big," he commented focusing on Tucker's face.

Trip laughed and directed McCann to the chair by his desk. "Well, that's the benefit of having an Admiral named as the Commanding Officer of a ship in construction. This was your uncle's office and he demanded that it be fitting of an Admiral."

Catch chuckled knowing all too well the standards his uncle demanded. "My aunt tried to tell me that he slept on board during construction."

"He did," Tucker said. "In this room in fact, there a Murphy bed built into that wall," Trip said pointing to the wall opposite the protein re-sequencer. "Even had a shower installed in the latrine. Want some coffee?" he asked as he ordered a cup.

"Sure," McCann answered.

"How you take it?"

"Black."

"Just like your uncle," Trip smiled making small talk. "You still go by that ole nickname from college?"

"Actually that's from childhood but yea, most people call me that more than my real name," McCann replied. "Sometimes I forget I have a different name." he added trying to break the ice.

"I understand that," Trip replied. "I've been called Trip since before I could walk. Did Captain Williams brief you on our mission?" Tucker asked putting the second cup in the dispenser and ordering the drink.

"No, sir," McCann replied. "He told me last night that I was TAD to your command until the mission was over, but what the mission is, I have no clue."

Tucker was silent for a moment as the dispenser finished brewing the cup. He walked in Catch's direction and handed him the cup before sitting down in his chair. "Well there's nothing too fancy about it, simply stated we are on a supply mission to rendezvous with Columbia in the Benzar system."

Catch sipped on his coffee and was quiet as he reflected on their orders. He watched the Captain's eyes and body language carefully, skills he picked up in his tenure in security. Tucker's face was a blank slate, but his eyes told a different story. Catch knew there was something up instantly. _This is no ordinary supply run, _he noted mentally. "A supply run sir?" McCann questioned him.

"Yes," Tucker replied flatly. "It's the midpoint between Columbia's patrol zone and the Starbase. They've been en route for a month now. It should take us about four weeks to get there at warp six."

"I'm familiar with the Benzar system," McCann remarked. He still questioned the order. "Respectfully, sir, why is Phoenix meeting with Columbia? There are other starships closer; Darlington and Talladega are all monitoring the neutral zone and are a stones throw from Columbia's position," he quizzed the captain. Catch could see Tucker's mind reeling in his quest for a good answer. He still held onto his poker face though. _That Vulcan emotion control has obviously worn off on him, _Catch thought as he waited for the Captain's explanation.

"Well Commander I had the same question when Admiral Stewart read me in, so I'll tell you like he told it to me. It's a supply mission and those are our orders," Tucker said flatly. "Besides, it's a good opportunity to get the kinks worked out on the engine, outside traditional flight tests."

Catch nodded careful with his facial expressions. He could hear his uncle laying it on the line in just that manner. _Supply mission my ass! Head of security at 'the' most important Starbase in the sector is TAD to Phoenix with less than twelve hours notice for a simple supply mission? No fricken way, _he theorized trying to read between the lines._ "_Aye aye sir," McCann finally remarked when he realized he hadn't said anything. _What's really going on? _he wondered.

"As for your duties on board," Tucker's voice rambled on in the background. "...First Officer ...you"ll be ... duties ... Commander Rybaiski…."

McCann was so absorbed in trying to decipher the supply mission cover that he nearly missed what Tucker said. _Whoa … did he say? _McCann backpedaled completely in shock. _Rybaiski? Rybaiski's not the first officer? Did he just say I'm going to be acting first officer? _

Obviously the expression of complete shock must have plastered McCann's face because it stopped the Captain from rambling on in the background. The room became uncomfortably silent as McCann tried to replay whatever Tucker had just said to make sure he heard it right. Finally Tucker broke the tension. "Commander, are you okay?"

"Sir, I must have heard you wrong," McCann stammered. "What did you say my role was going to be?"

"You'll be Acting First Officer, sharing the role with Commander Rybaiski," Tucker repeated taking a sip of his coffee.

"I ah…" McCann chuckled nervously. He was blown away. _Acting First Officer? _Never in a million years would he have guessed that anyone in Starfleet would have offered him that role. In fact, he remembered quite clearly Admiral Gardner telling him in no uncertain terms that he would never hold a high level command position again or advance past the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Even his position at the Starbase had been modified so all decisions were channeled through Captain Williams, the Commander Officer. Now Tucker sat before him shaking it up? On his Uncle's ship no less? Catch was certain he could smell his uncle's after shave right behind his chair and could feel the man and his expectations breathing down his neck. Suddenly the room felt very small. "I wasn't expecting that sir," he finally stammered out.

Tucker acknowledged the man's shock. He leaned forward resting his elbow on his knee and thought about his answer for a moment. "You know, Shane, one lesson I learned from Admiral Stewart was about giving second chances. He firmly believed that mistakes were a learning tool and as long as the person took something away from it, they were worth another chance," Trip paused a moment and sat back, taking another drink of his coffee. "I've reviewed your service record and I've seen your accomplishments over the course of your career. You come highly recommended by Captain Williams, Commander T'Pol, CDR Gervase and even your brother. I know there are people at Starfleet that have their doubts about you and I'm sure they're the same people that have their doubts about me. However, based on what I've read, I would be a fool not to give you this opportunity. This mission is a test. Hopefully the next three months will provide the answers I need to select the best qualified First Officer. If you happen to be that person, I guarantee you I have the backing to make it happen." Trip took a final swallow of coffee, stood up and walked around his desk. "I know we have some jaded history, Shane, but as far as I'm concerned as of today that slate is wiped clean. The past is the past and the relationship that matters starts right now."

Catch pursed his lips and nodded his head. He still couldn't believe that Tucker was giving him this opportunity, suspicious on how it was all playing out. In any event, he was on trial, be it for intelligence reasons or as the second in command of this ship, his time to prove himself was now. _I will not screw this up, _he told himself with renewed determination. He stood from the chair. clicked his heels together and nodded to Tucker. "Thank you Captain, I appreciated the opportunity. You won't be disappointed," he resolved firmly.

"Well, one bit of advice I can give you, don't fall asleep on the bridge," Tucker said with a grin.

"I can see that my uncle's sense of humor wore off on you," Catch replied with a smile.

"Uh hmm, I was like that before," Tucker smirked. "Admiral Stewart just enhanced it." Trip bit his lip as he remembered the lecture about balance he had given Rybaiski just days before. "There is a time and a place for that…," he started to say, but McCann interrupted him.

"It's all about balance, sir," McCann said. "I cannot count the number of times I've been on the receiving end of that lecture from the Admiral," he remarked inclining his head in his uncle's memory.

00-00

Thirty minutes later, Catch sat at the table in conference room zeta and sized up the other officers while the senior staff meeting droned on around him. He was familiar with nearly all officers, except the Andorian engineer. Catch scanned the agenda for the fifth time in the past hour. _There seems to be a lot of acting going on around here, _he thought when he noticed Dempsey was listed as Acting Chief Engineer.

His co-part in the Acting First Officer role was sitting in the chair right next to him, which McCann took as a silent stab in the back. Rybaiski had breezed through the door right when the meeting started and slid into the chair right next to the Captain just as Catch was about to maneuver into in himself. Rybaiski had been his arch nemesis at the academy twenty years ago and while Catch was trying to keep an open mind, things hadn't changed much in his opinion.

Commander T'Pol sat next to Dempsey. McCann had worked with her at the Starbase for the past year and found the Commander to be straight forward in her analysis and a technical expert in the Science field. She was also friendlier than the average Vulcan, but chalked that up to experience with his brother-in-law. Both had spent many years around humans and had picked up a habit or two. He was well aware of the romantic relationship between the commander and the captain and knew that his uncle had exercised an Admiral's privilege to put them together. He didn't have a problem with the arrangement and even if he did, he couldn't say a damn thing about it considering that same privilege arranged for Zack and Solon to be together on Phoenix.

Lieutenant Morgan Montag sat next to T'Pol and directly across from him. Zack had introduced her yesterday during the memorial service. Having a psychologist on board was an interesting concept, yet made Shane more suspicious of their mission profile. _Why would she need to be aboard this ship for this mission? Why not assign her to Bristol or Brickyard or even the Dubuque? _McCann wondered as he perused the rest of the list. _Yep, something is definitely fishy about this gig. _

Shane considered the next two officers at the table friends, rather than foes. Commander Gervase, the Denobulian Executive Officer and Lieutenant Colonel Birdie Lynch, Head of Security. Lynch, Gervase and Catch had a storied history dating all the way back to his time in the brig. Gervase was the Corrections Officer assigned to his cellblock. When Catch was released and reassigned to Starfleet Security, Gervase followed as his handler and after spending nearly all their time together, became his friend.

Colonel Lynch was another story. Born with a crop of red hair that reminded her mother of the state bird of Indiana, Birdie was her legal name on her birth certificate. Officially she had been the team lead of their platoon at Starfleet. Unofficially, she was much more than that. Crossing the lines of fraternization, Birdie had been McCann's ultimate match. It was a rocky relationship at best for over two years until an unexpected pregnancy linked the two forever. Their child died shortly after birth from a defect that even twenty second century medicine couldn't cure. Grief tore their relationship apart and sent them off on their separate career paths, although they attempted to remain friends.

Catch shook his head and pulled his thoughts back to the present. He looked around the room again, missing from the meeting were LCDR Sato, the communications department head and his brother. _Nice way to make a good impression little brother, _he thought as he heard a light tapping sound on the table. He looked up to see Gervase motioning toward his PADD. McCann nonchalantly picked up the PADD and found a text message from his ole pal.

_Mission thoughts?_

Catch smirked and typed one words back. _Bogus. _

_Ideas?_

McCann tilted his head and paused a moment pretending to be listening to Tucker and Rybaiski's continued banter. He had many thoughts about the mission and all items he'd love to share with his pal Geri over a cold beer. _C: Red, _he typed.

_Shake down NX- 02?_

_Ha! So there is something going on with Columbia, _McCann thought as he read Gervase's comments. He stared at the words again. _He's read in? _McCann thought looking slyly around the table. _What the frig? _He thought as he typed his next message. _U read in?_

_Nah, I'm yellow._

_Yellow? _McCann typed back. _Since when? Aren't you highest security?_

_I'm not the head of security. I'm the XO. Different level in Starfleet's eyes. _

_Who's red, besides Captain?_

_T'Pol, Sato and Birdie. _

_Sato's red and you're not? _

_Yup. _

_That's dumb … another example of obsolete regs. _Shane chewed on his lip in thought. He turned his chair to look down the table in Colonel Lynch's direction. She was staring blankly at her PADD with glassed over eyes. _Boss, u awake? _McCann typed and sent over to her. He watched her carefully and saw her lips curl into a smile.

_Barely_.

_Mission thoughts?_

McCann caught her looking at him with an arched eyebrow. A second later, he looked down at his PADD and read: _questionable? U?_

_Suspicious. Read in?_

_2 what? _

_C:Red._

_Red? No, u? _Birdie glared at him from across the table.

McCann looked around the room and set his PADD down. He pushed his chair back and looked at Birdie shaking his head, then stood up and walked over to the coffee pot. He poured himself a fresh cup and headed back to the table. He picked up the PADD and typed one word, sending it to both Gervase and Lynch. _Lunch?_

Their response was quick. _Definitely. _

He had no more than read their response when the doors swooshed open and his brother and LCDR Sato walked into the room. They took the empty chairs next to him and both officers set equipment down on the table top as they sat down.

"Perfect timing," the Captain said watching the two enter. "We were just getting to that part of the agenda. The last item we need to talk about," he started to say when he heard Gervase mutter something under his breath.

"Oh, we're all talking now?" Gervase mumbled to Lynch a little louder than he realized. "I thought only Rybaiski was allowed to talk."

"Excuse me?" Rybaiski blurted out. "I wasn't the only one talking." He glared down the table to Gervase.

"No, you weren't the only one, but you did the majority of it," Gervase said smugly.

"Glad I missed it," Hoshi muttered quietly. "You should ignore him, he's sleep deprived."

"Does everyone on the ship know my business?" Rybaiski cried out defensively. He ran his hand through his thick brown hair and slumped back into his seat.

"It's a small ship," T'Pol remarked flatly. "Gossip does make its rounds."

"Captain!" Rybaiski said looking to Trip for some back up.

"Don't look at me, I didn't say anything," Trip replied. He got up from the table to refresh his coffee.

"Say anything about what?" Hoshi replied. "What did I miss?"

Rybaiski looked from T'Pol to Hoshi and back to T'Pol. "It was you," he said stabbing a finger in her direction. "You and Hoshi talking through that mind thing that you two do," he said waving his fingers at both women and pointing as his head.

"I have not spoken to Commander Sato at all this morning, either verbally or nonverbally," T'Pol replied to him frankly.

"You can communicate with Commander T'Pol telepathically?" Colonel Lynch asked Hoshi with a perplexed expression on her face.

"No, I can't," Hoshi said shaking her head. "Its sleep deprivation, it's making him talk all crazy. He told just told us in sick bay that he's been awake for the past thirty six hours," Hoshi added shrugging her shoulders.

Rybaiski sat up in his chair and looked down at Hoshi with a confused expression on his face. "I told you that?" he asked. Hoshi and everyone else in the room sighed exasperatedly.

Tucker walked back to the table and set an empty cup and the coffee pot down in front of his friend. "Have a cup of coffee, Stu. I think you need the caffeine." Tucker sat down in his chair and chuckled quietly. "We need to talk about Riley and bring Commander T'Pol and McCann up to speed. Geri?" Tucker said giving him the floor.

Gervase nodded and pushed some buttons on his PADD to transfer the data to the main viewer. "The person the Captain is speaking of is Riley O'Mara. She is a human female that we rescued from an Anoree escape pod after the Anoree attacked us. For all practical purposes the Anoree gutted her and beat her to near death. Someone with basic medical skills patched her back up and ejected her into space. When the Anoree demanded the pod back, we jettisoned it into space and rigged it to explode when they hooked it. They left the area without any further contact." Gervase paused and changed the display on the monitor to some basic medical scan info and her brother's ID photo.

"Doctor McCann was able to match the female's DNA with an engineer serving on the freighter Santa Fe. His name is Dylan O'Mara. He, his sister Riley O'Mara and their parents lived about a freighter called the Rockton. Roughly four and a half or five years ago they were attacked by raiders and the father was killed. Riley was among the missing and presumed dead. Freighter Authority doesn't have very good records on the families that lived on the Rockton, but we think she was ten or eleven when she was taken, which makes her about fourteen or fifteen now."

"Gutted is about the best way to describe her injuries," Zack added. "She was pregnant when she was attacked and the fetus was removed from her body, leaving a mess in its place. My guess is the fetus was about twenty-two weeks old and it didn't survive the delivery.

Catch nodded taking it all in. "Where is she now?" he asked still processing the information.

"She's assigned to crew quarters on deck five," Colonel Lynch said. "She under guard, but at this point it's not because she's a danger." Birdie paused and tried to find the right word to describe Riley's condition. "She's skittish and has a hard time believing that the Captain isn't her new owner or that she's hasn't been brought on board to service the crew."

"There are a few people that she seems _comfortable _with," Zack added. "I'm using that term loosely. Hoshi, Corporal Kuhlie, Geri, Solon and the Captain seem to have the most luck talking to her and moving her around the ship without resistance."

"She seems to be more relaxed around the non-human crew members," Gervase remarked.

"Considering she hasn't had contact with humans for the past four years it is logical that she would seek out companionship from other species," T'Pol remarked. "I'm curious why she wasn't transferred off ship at the Starbase. Certainly the medical facility there would have been a better location for her rehabilitation," T'Pol added trailing her gaze around the table and settling it on Tucker.

_It wasn't all my idea, _Tucker blurted out to her in his head as he tried to defend his logic. Before he had the chance to verbalize his answer, Dr. McCann spoke on his behalf.

"That decision was made by Lieutenant Montag and me. It was approved by Admiral Stewart and Captain Tucker and cleared by Starfleet medical under the premise that Phoenix could provide a better environment for her rehabilitation. Phoenix is one of the first ships with a certified psychologist/counselor assigned to the medical staff," Zack said opening his hand toward Lieutenant Montag.

"Riley needs to be reintegrated into society with controlled variables which we can easily provide here. Dropping her off at the Starbase would have just perpetuated the slave trade life she has been forced to live the past four years," Montag said evenly. She looked to the captain for approval.

_Nice save medical team, Tucker_ thought as he nodded toward Doctor McCann and Lieutenant Montag. "Okay, now that everyone is up to speed on Riley, yesterday we had an incident with her at the Starbase, which Colonel Lynch will explain," Trip said gesturing for her to take it from there.

Birdie had already changed the data on the monitor to show the security scans that Kuhlie had captured. "Yesterday, Corporal Kuhlie and Sergeant Montag, took Riley to lunch at the Starbase Arboretum. When they arrived, they reported that she was nervous, but otherwise okay. They ate lunch and were on their way back to the ship," Birdie paused again looking for the right word. She stood and walked toward the viewer. "One minute Riley was okay, the next she was very nervous and upset. Kuhlie started taking scans at that point. After talking to Montag and Kuhlie they remembered about the same time that Riley became agitated they had passed two men at the edge of the garden area that were speaking in a dialect the UT didn't picking up."

"Why would she be allowed off ship if she is that uncomfortable around people?" McCann interrupted in full security mode. "That's seems like a security risk, putting any number of others in jeopardy," he added staring at Gervase and Lynch.

"We had no idea that she was going to react that way," Rybaiski said defensively. "She has acclimated to her environment since we picked her up."

"That was what? Four days ago? She's still an unknown variable," McCann added. "Why take the risk?"

"I didn't see it as a risk. Colonel Lynch and I discussed it before hand and I approved it," Rybaiski retorted. "Whatever happened on the base didn't seem to have lasting effect on her. I saw her in the mess hall last night and she seemed fine."

"She seems fine? It's my understanding that she attacked and injured several members of the crew, one of which had to be transferred off the ship." McCann said scanning the officers at the table. "From an outsider's view she's a time bomb."

Silence fell across the table and most eyes settled on Dr. McCann who was visibly squirming in his seat. While details about the injuries were in the official report that Commander McCann could have accessed at any time, it was obvious that he was given privileged information by his brother, a clear violation of ship policy. The Captain rolled his eyes and was about to rebuttal, when Rybaiski cut him off.

"Commander, the ensign in question was transferred off ship for a medical condition, not because of her injuries," Rybaiski growled growing more irritated with McCann by the second.

"We're talking about a child who was forcibly taken from her family into deep space and controlled by physical and emotional violence for years. In her eyes, our rescue attempt was another segment in an endless saga of slavery. In four years she hadn't seen another human and then suddenly was on a ship full of them?" Gervase commented defensively. "I think you'd be hard pressed to find anyone at this table that wouldn't react the same way in her situation."

"Respectfully Commander, I don't think you can judge whether Riley is a security risk without meeting her or understanding her situation," Hoshi remarked quietly. "We have all attended some type of Survival Training and have learned when captured by the enemy our first priority is preservation and then escape. Condemning her as violent or a risk based on her natural instinct…." Hoshi's voice trailed off as she remembered her own experience with the Xindi. "You can't make assumptions until you've walked in her shoes."

The tension could be cut with a knife after Gervase and Hoshi's caustic words. The silence only last mere seconds, but hung heavily in to the air. No one dared to comment further on the previous conversation and most of the staff were ready to throw daggers in Catch's direction for any number of things. Gervase shuffled in his seat and leaned forward to get the conversation going again.

"You know what doesn't make sense about yesterday?" Gervase said calmly tilting his head in a curious manner. "Why would one voice that didn't translate upset her? It's not like she's been around English speakers the past four years. A fourth of our crew doesn't speak English. I do, T'Pol does, Dempsey does when he feels like it," he said pointing around the table.

"Kuhlie is around her all the time and she isn't comfortable speaking English," Birdie added.

"I have at least five humans in engineer that speak their native languages," Rybaiski said sticking his two cents in.

"Hoshi and I had this exact conversation this morning," Tucker remarked nodding his head. "We have a theory."

"Wait," Dempsey interrupted looking at the image on the monitor again. "Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt Captain," he said getting up from his seat and stepping closer to the monitor. He pushed a couple of buttons to enlarge the image of the two men on the screen. He nodded his head and turned back toward Tucker. "The guy in the blue is a Naree," he said flatly.

"That's a Naree?" Tucker exclaimed getting up to get a closer look at the image. "He looks humanoid. I don't remember you saying the Naree were humanoid Lieutenant," he chided Dempsey.

"Frankly sir, you never asked me what they looked like," Dempsey replied. "They aren't exactly humanoid. They are a hybrid. This isn't a very good image. They have humanoid features, but have scales on the sides of their heads, arms, legs and back." He waved his hands over his body as he spoke to illustrate.

"You know for certain that's a Naree?" Rybaiski questioned.

"Yes," Dempsey replied somewhat defensively.

"Corporal Kuhlie didn't recognize his species," Rybaiski countered.

"So?" Dempsey growled. His antenna laid back on his head in annoyance. "If I'm not mistaken this is Corporal Kuhlie's first ship assignment."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Stu asked. "I thought your planet had a trade agreement with them."

"Andoria has a trade agreement with the Anoree, not the Naree," Dempsey remarked crossing his arms at his chest. "The Naree aren't very sociable. It would be very easy for an Andorian to live their entire life without ever meeting a Naree. The only way to run into them is to spend time in space."

"In any event," Trip butted in mentally rolling his eyes at the banter of his officers. "Catch, can you get a better image from the Starbase security camera?"

"Sure, but can I ask why without getting beat up?" McCann questioned.

Tucker walked back around the table. "The two ships that attacked us were from the fleet of the royal family of Anoree. The Anoree ship is assigned to Ambassador Gevale's daughter Elnora. The other vessel was identified by Dempsey as Naree. The Ambassador confirmed that it belonged to Elnora's _husband. _The Ambassador told Cap'n Arch … Admiral Archer," Trip corrected himself and eyed Hoshi. He watched her lip curl into a smile as he continued. "That the Anoree had been plagued by infertility problems for years and had lost their ability to reproduce. Riley has confirmed that more or less. She told us that she was acquired by Elnora to procreate with her husband."

"The child belonged to a Naree?" McCann asked.

"No," Doctor McCann butted in getting his confidence back. "Riley has insisted the child was fathered by another slave. DNA traces indicated the fetus was humanoid."

"Elnora thought the child was her husband's offspring," Tucker remarked sitting back down in the chair.

"If the fetus was taken early and didn't survive, it would go to reason why she would want Riley back," T'Pol remarked as she read Tucker's mind. "While the identification of this Naree at the Starbase explains why Riley became agitated, it does not answer the questions we have about her ability to understand other languages," she added trying to move the conversation along. She looked at Trip sharply and held his gaze for a moment telling him mentally to get on with it.

"Hoshi, what did you find out?" Tucker asked glancing sideways at T'Pol.

"The Captain and I theorized earlier that Riley had some type of translation matrix available to her that allowed her to communicate. I knew it couldn't have been an implant because Doctor McCann would have found it during her medical evaluation. After some investigation, we discovered the UT in her ear clip." Hoshi picked up the earring from the container she had it stowed in and held it up for everyone to see. The small shell shaped clip seemed harmless enough to everyone at the table.

"There's a translator in that little thing?" McCann guffawed

Hoshi smiled. "It's a little more than your average translator," she remarked arching her eyebrows.

Doctor McCann opened the container sitting on the table and set up some equipment for their discussion. Commander Rybaiski began to explain the inter workings of the clip.

"I scanned the inside of the clip. There are three mechanisms inside," he said bringing the scanned image up on the monitor. "This is the translator," he said pointing at it on his PADD which put and arrow on the monitor.

"That little tiny thing is a translator?" Lynch commented this time as she stared at it.

"We have micro-processors that small in engineering," Dempsey replied. "Can we take it apart?"

"No, the doc won't let us," Rybaiski replied looking down the table.

"I won't let you because I don't think it's safe," Zack remarked with a tinge of defensiveness in his voice.

"I don't understand," Tucker muttered.

"We'll get to that in a minute," Rybaiski said smiling. He slid his finger across the photo and pointed at another small bump on the inside of the clip. "This appears to be a homing device. It looks like it can be activated manually on the reverse side of the clip." He drew a line down the image on his PADD and split the screen, then brought up an image of the back side of the clip. "This final mechanism," he said pointing at the largest part of the clip. "It's organic."

"Organic?" Gervase and McCann exclaimed at the same time.

"That's why he won't let us take it apart," Rybaiski remarked with a smirk.

"You'll understand why in a second," Hoshi added.

Dr. McCann changed the image on the monitor to a shot of Riley's head before the clip was removed. "Captain, if you'll remember, the clip was embedded in her ear. This is the shot of her head before it was removed. Here is the after shot," Zack remarked changing the view. The image changed to the ear with the clip removed, a trickle of blood trailed down the side of her head. "Notice the blood?" he said looking around the table. "Ensign Chambers removed the clip and in her case notes she said the bottom part of the clip was stuck in the skin." He paused a moment and looked up at the Captain. "It was stuck alright. For the purpose of this demonstration I've made a cast of Hoshi's ear and skull and simulated her brain tissue. I'll put this on the monitor."

McCann and Hoshi fiddled with the model for a moment until it appeared on the monitor for all to see. Hoshi clipped the earring on to the ear of the model and stood back. After a second the clip molded itself around the ear lobe. A tentacle appeared out of the back of the clip and pierced the mock skin covering of the skull. The staff watched in amazement as the tentacle bore its way through the plastic skull and simulated brain matter to a mid point of the brain.

"**Hole …lee. ….shit**!" Tucker exclaimed slowly as he watched the monitor.

"Ouch!" was mumbled in unison around the table.

T'Pol stood from the chair and walked closer to the monitor looking at the screen in a curious matter. "Doctor, where does the tentacle stop?" she asked looking back at McCann.

"It stops at the euphoria and endorphin sensory nodes," McCann said splitting the screen and bringing up a diagram of the human brain.

"Wouldn't that hurt? That thing drilling through your skull like that?" Dempsey asked.

"Yes, it would be extremely painful," McCann replied matter-of-factly.

"There's a tab right here," Rybaiski said brining up the clip on the split screen. "Watch when Hoshi touches it," he said pointing at Hoshi. She squeezed the clip between her index finger and thumb. The tentacle pushed against the euphoria nodes in the brain. For the demonstration, Dr. McCann had filled the node with a yellow dye. The liquid from the node flooded the brain and filtered through the simulated circulatory system.

"Yeow," Tucker whistled. "No wonder why she keeps pulling on her ear lobe."

"It is likely one of her owners implanted the device on her as a manipulative tool. If the pain receptors were blocked and she only felt euphoria she would be much more compliant and willing to do what was asked of her," T'Pol remarked watching the monitor.

Trip tilted his head and chuckled for a moment, sharing his thoughts mentally with T'Pol before he shared with the group. "I'd bet any money she was traded at slave markets right under our noses. Think about it, with that device in her ear, she knew they would come after her if she tried to escape and even if she saw a human, she was probably too afraid to reach out. I'm sure it has a discipline application that we just haven't found."

"Likely remotely activated," T'Pol concurred. "Perhaps it was part of the selling package when she was traded."

"Bridge to Captain Tucker."

Tucker stood up and walked to the comm panel on the wall. "Tucker here."

"You have a subspace message from Admiral Ford."

"I'll be right up to get it," Tucker replied. He turned to look at his senior team. "Alright, that's it guys. Hoshi, I'll find you when I'm done." He watched her nod and left the room.

The other officers started to filter out of the room slowly. Rybaiski stood up and scanned the room for the elder McCann brother. "Catch," he called out when he saw him at the door. "Can I see you a second?" he said waiting at the table. He looked over at Hoshi and the Doctor and gave them a look that said _get out! _

"What's up?" McCann asked when the room was clear.

Rybaiski put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips as he planned his attack. "Look, I know you are trying to figure out where you fit in around here, but let me be blunt. I am not going to put up with you selling out your brother in front of the entire senior staff. He has enough problems around here on his own. He doesn't need you bashing him publicly," he growled in McCann's face.

"You're not going to put up with it? What are you the morality police?" McCann remarked tersely.

"No, I'm the senior officer."

"The senior officer? My understanding from the Captain is we hold the same designator on this cruise," McCann came back at him.

"We may be sharing the role of First Officer, but as far as rank goes, I'm the one with full commander rights. I will not let any of my staff be belittled by an arrogant ass," Rybaiski said firmly.

"You need a reality check Commander," McCann started to say.

"No Shane," Rybaiski said getting right in his face. "You're the one that needs the reality check. Zack has had your back for the past four years. He's defended you relentlessly when no one else gave a shit about you and hoped you rotted to death in that jail cell. He did it because he loved you and he believed in you. And how do you repay him? You shit on him the first chance you get!" Rybaiski stood back and shook his head. "I may have my differences with your brother, but I know damn sure that I will always have his back, in combat, in a bar fight, and in standing up to bullies like you. And I know he'll have mine. And sad thing is …he'll have yours, even if you don't want it. They say blood is thicker than water ….I truly feel sorry for Zack." Rybaiski scowled and shoved McCann back with his hands. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room leaving Shane alone for the first time since he had come aboard three hours ago.

"Geezus, Uncle T wore off on him," McCann said sitting down on the table. He dropped his head and closed his eyes. _I've been on board three hours and I'm already fucking this up,_ he thought. "Let's see if I can make it through the rest of the day and not get yelled at by anybody." Catch said aloud jumping off the table and heading for the door.

00-00

"Coffee strong, mint tea hot," Tucker ordered two hot drinks from the dispenser in the ready room. When the drinks were ready, he walked to the lounge area of the room and set the cups down on the coffee table. He collapsed into a chair and leaned his head back against the cushion, closing his eyes and relaxing. He sensed her coming down the hall before she even made it to the door and told her mentally to just come in. He listened to her footfall across the floor and felt the warmth of her hand as she touched the back of his neck, and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Tea?"

"Mint. Hmmmm, that feels good," he moaned leaning into her touch. She put light pressure on the node at the base of his neck and after a moment he felt the tension release from his shoulders. "Ahhh, ohhhh…thanks." He looked up at her just as she leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips.

"Admiral Ford?" she asked as she walked over to the couch and sat down. She picked up the cup and took a sip of the tea as she looked at him over the top of the cup.

"Oh, you mean my new best friend?" Trip joked. "He didn't want anything…just checking in to see if McCann made it on board." He leaned over and picked up his cup. "You know, when I just a lowly chief engineer, I wondered what the Captain did in his office all day long. I thought he was strategizing some master plan for our voyage or something equally exciting."

"And now?" T'Pol asked him.

"Now I know, he was reading email," he said dejectedly. "I must have a hundred new messages on my queue and only about ten are actually relevant to me." He shook his head. "Ridiculous! I don't know how anyone gets any work done reading all that garbage."

"May I accompany you when you speak to Riley this afternoon?" T'Pol asked him ignoring his grumblings.

"Yeah, you don't need to ask," he replied. "I just talked to Hoshi. She's at lunch, but I have to take care of something first," Trip said sitting back and savoring his coffee.

"If you're referring to the McCann matter, it's already been handled," she replied flatly.

"Did you take care of it?"

"That was my intent, however, your first officer handled it," she replied.

"Stu handled it?" Trip was surprised. "You're kidding?" He started to laugh and tried to imagine how that played out. "What I wouldn't have given to be a mouse in the corner of that room," he muttered under his breath.

"He was quite effective in his delivery."

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"I have good ears," she reminded him. "You did say my job was to spy on the crew."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you were actually going to do it," he replied still laughing. "So how did it go?"

"After Rybaiski put McCann in his place, the commander left the conference room and proceeded directly to sick bay where he apologized to his brother," she said. "I just happened to be there examining the data from the earring," she added innocently.

"Ah huh," Trip grumbled. "How was Zack?"

"Not as receptive as his brother would have liked," T'Pol replied. "However considering the situation, I doubt if I would have been either. Solon had a few comments to add that were rather humorous."

"Ah, I love that guy," Trip said chuckling. He noticed T'Pol giving him a strange look. "Well, not as much as I love you, of course. He's just funny in a Vulcan sort of way. Reminds me of Soval."

"You find Ambassador Soval funny?"

"I do now that I know him better," Trip muttered. "The last time we went to dinner with him he was cracking jokes all night."

"I find Commander McCann to be intrusive and somewhat intimidating at times," she commented. "However, he is capable of completing the task."

"He reminds me of a playground bully. He targets the weak because he thinks it makes him stronger or look better. But he does it in such a way that on the surface he comes off as charming and a good guy. You know, we'll have to watch that, because that is what got him sunk on the Piper." Trip said to her. "I hope Williams wasn't snowballed by him."

"I hardly think Jim Williams would fall for that game," T'Pol replied. "From my experience with Mr. McCann he tends to do it in group settings. One on one he is more approachable."

"Ah! Exactly the playground bully persona!" Trip remarked throwing up his hand. "He didn't try that crap on you did he?"

"Unsuccessfully," T'Pol remarked arching her brow, she changed the subject on him before he asked any further questions. "When do you plan to inform Commander McCann, Colonel Lynch and Hoshi of the Columbia mission?"

Trip exhaled hard and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, my orders were to read you red's in when we made contact with Columbia. Not when you and I were between the sheets," he replied giving her a sly grin. "McCann is suspicious already. He grilled me when I gave him the mission briefing and is very informed of ship movement in the neutral zone."

"As I told you last night, he was very proficient in his role at the Starbase. He reminded me of Malcolm in an odd way," T'Pol remarked.

"Oh, that's a security thing, Gervase and Birdie act the same way," Tucker commented. "You acted like that the first year on Enterprise."

"I did not," she replied flatly.

"Oh, right. That's was when you were…." He stopped mid thought when she gave him a scolding scowl. "You know I was just kidding?"

"I know." She set her cup down on the coffee table. "I sensed something between Commander McCann and Colonel Lynch."

Trip rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly. "Yeah, there's something there alright. I totally forgot about it until the meeting," he muttered. "We might as well just nickname Phoenix the Love Boat," he said standing up. He walked over and put his mug on the tray by the dispenser.

"The Love Boat?"

"It was television show that was popular like a hundred and eighty years ago," he said shrugging his shoulders. "It was about this ocean liner that had a reputation for making couples fall in love."

T'Pol stood and walked over to him. "You think Phoenix makes couples fall in love?" she asked him setting her cup on the tray.

"Considering the number of couples we have on board?" Trip replied chuckling. "Shane and Birdie were in a relationship after he got out of prison and he knocked her up. The baby died a couple of days after birth from some kind of heart defeat." He was quiet for a moment as he thought about their daughter. He shook his head. "Their relationship fell apart after that and he was reassigned to the Starbase."

"Sounds familiar," T'Pol replied stepping closer to him and putting her hand on his chest.

He reached out and traced his finger down the side of her face. "Yeah, doesn't it?" he said "At least for us, love kept us together," he whispered quietly. He leaned over and kissed her gently. "I missed you," he said when their lips parted. T'Pol said nothing aloud, but held his gaze and communicated her feelings to him in a way only he could understand.

"Let's get some lunch," Trip said after a few minutes, knowing that if he stayed in that moment any longer he'd be pulling down the Murphy bed. "Wanna play racquetball later?"

"Racquetball? You didn't seriously build a court on the ship?"

"I did…er we did," Trip replied defensively. "It doubles as a basketball court. Stu proposed it to the Admiral and he agreed. It's in an empty cargo bay on deck eleven. If we need to use it for storage, we can convert it back. So? Wanna play?"

"Yes, then we can have a late dinner," She stepped back from him and nodded. "The pocket door between our staterooms is an interesting concept," she remarked with a curious lift to her brow.

"You like that?" He replied pushing off the wall. "That's was Stu's idea too. He did that for the Doc's room as well. He said it gives us his and her space, or in the doc's case his and his space." He ran his hand down the side of her arm and walked past her to the door.

"Was anything on the ship your idea?"

"Just getting you on board," he replied leaning back for a final kiss, just as a comm. link clicked open.

"Commander Sato to Captain Tucker." Hoshi's voice echoed through the line.

"Tucker here," Trip replied reaching over the desk to activate the line.

"Commander McCann just called me to deck four to look at a problem with the communications array," she reported. "I might be delayed for our meeting."

"That's fine commander," Trip replied. "I'll take T'Pol with me instead. I just hope I don't have a repeat performance of this morning."

"I was thinking about that sir. I partnered with Lieutenant Montag and Chief Roman to move her to quarters on deck three.'

"I wasn't aware we had any open rooms on deck three," Trip replied with a perplexed tone in his voice.

"She's in my room sir," Hoshi's voice crackled over the line. "I moved to deck two."

"Deck two is a popular place," Tucker replied. "Rooms are bigger and the neighbors are nicer."

"I noticed," she remarked. "I hope you don't mind."

"That's fine, Hoshi," Trip remarked. "Tucker out."

Trip ushered T'Pol to the service corridor and headed down the walkway. "This ought to be good. The last time I talked to Riley she hyperventilated."

"You do have that effect on people," T'Pol remarked with a slight upward turn of her lip. "I can recall you raising my heart rate a time or two."

00-00

Riley leaned up against the window sill and stared at the star field as it streamed past her. It had been months since she had been able to look out a window and visualize that she was in space. Watching the star field caused her vision to become blurred and she felt slightly nauseous, but she couldn't tear herself away from the hypnotic lure. When the doorbell chimed and woke her from the trance, she wasn't sure how long she had been standing there.

"Enter," she said and heard the door open behind her. She turned around and saw Captain Tucker enter with a stranger, Vulcan woman she did not recognize. She wore the same uniform of the rest of the crew and had the same bar insignia as Gervase. Riley watched her warily and noted her every move. "Captain," she said nodding her head.

"Riley," he greeted her. "Like your new room?"

"It's bigger," she said. "I like the window."

"Good," he replied. He gestured to T'Pol and introduced her to Riley. "This is Commander T'Pol. We need to finish our talk from earlier, do you want to sit?"

"No," Riley replied shaking her head. She felt her stomach lurch and swallowed hard to push the feeling back. "Nervous."

Tucker took a breath and sighed. "Ok, but we're not going to have a repeat of this morning." He pulled a PADD out of his uniform pocket. "What happened yesterday at the Starbase?"

"Nothing," Riley replied quickly. She shrugged her shoulders. "I...I was just ready to leave."

"Are you sure?" Tucker asked.

Riley looked everywhere in the cabin, but not into his eyes. She could feel him staring at her, but she focused her eyes on the floor. She felt her hands begin to tremble and started to wring them, trying to control her fear. "Yes, I'm sure."

"I spoke to Kuhlie and Montag this morning. They said you were fine the entire time you were in the garden area until the three of you got up to leave. Then you passed a male who spoke in a dialect the universal translator didn't pick up and your demeanor changed," Tucker said flatly. "Now, you could probably convince over half the crew that nothing happened. But you can't fool Kuhlie or Montag or even me for that matter." He pressed a few keys on the PADD. "I pulled this image of the male off the security cameras. We've identified him as a Naree. What I need for you to answer is do you recognize him?" He turned the PADD around and held it in front of her face.

Riley looked at the PADD and felt her stomach twist. She recognized the uniform immediately. He was a hunter. There were many like him. She had seen their handiwork in action when she was taken from Gowan's ship and when another slave had escaped. When a hunter was called in the only result was death. She could feel her whole body trembling and shook her head. She backed away from Tucker and felt herself bump against the window sill. There was no escaping the Captain's glare. "I don't know him," she whispered as tears welled up in her eyes.

"The captain didn't ask if you knew him," T'Pol interjected stepping to block a potential escape route to the door. "He asked if you recognized him and based on your reaction, we'll take that as a yes."

"Who is he?" Tucker asked again setting the PADD on the desk. "Riley."

She bit her lip as the tears began to run down her face. _Damn him when he says my name like that! _she thought as memories of her father flooded through her head. The Captain's voice was stern, but had softness to his edge. _The Vulcan lady is mean. _

"He is a hunter," she muttered. "But I don't know him." She wrapped her arms around her torso to stop herself from shaking, but it was seemed useless. She couldn't stop the trembling or the sick feeling in her gut.

"A hunter?" T'Pol repeated. "What does that mean?"

Riley blinked her eyes and swallowed hard. "What does that mean?" she muttered not realizing that she was thinking aloud. "It means trying to get freedom in a world that punishes you for having life. It means being stalked by men that rape and beat you until you can't breathe and then slit your throat in front of other slaves just enough to make their point and laugh at you, still taking their turns until you are nothing." Riley's words became mixed with sobs and she slid helplessly to the floor covering her hands with her face.

The room fell silent and Trip clenched his jaw as he felt his blood boil with anger. Riley had sent him over the edge. Not the girl, but her experiences. _Bastards! _he thought closing his eyes. _She was a little girl, _he couldn't even finish his thought. _If I ever come in contact with that Elnora bitch again, she's going to be sorry she ever met me, _he finally sputtered out in his head. He flexed his fingers and could feel his whole body trembling.

_Trip, _T'Pol called to him, her voice calm. _You cannot change what's happened to her, you can only affect her future, _she said trying to reason with him.

_People shouldn't have to live like that, _he replied getting angrier by the moment.

_Allowing her story to upset you is counterproductive, _T'Pol chided him. _Your response feeds her distress. _

Trip ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath. He stepped over to Riley and squatted in front of her, intending to help her stand. She jerked her arm away from him and noticeably flinched. "Whoa, it's okay," he said pulling his hands back. "It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you. Let me help you up," he said. His tone was just above a whisper. He leveled his eyes with hers and watched as the glassed over expression focused in on him. When her body relaxed, he pulled her up and walked her over to the bunk. "Could you get her some water?" he asked T'Pol. He pulled the desk chair out and sat down on it so he was eye level with her. "Are you okay?"

Riley took a couple of ragged breaths. "I guess," she replied. She took a drink of the water T'Pol handed her.

"Riley, you need to be honest with me so I can protect you," Trip said evenly. "Do you understand?" He paused for her to acknowledge him before moving on. "Do you think Elnora sent him to find you? Do you think he saw you?"

"I don't know," she said. Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly spilled the water from the glass. T'Pol caught it just as it tipped over and took it away from her. "I didn't look at him. I recognized his uniform and heard his language."

"What about…" Trip pointed to her forehead, at the branding that adorned it.

"It was covered. Corporal Kuhlie loaned me a cap."

"We know about the homing device in your earring," T'Pol remarked. "Do the Naree have the means to activate it?"

"No," Riley said shaking her head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my former owner destroyed it," Riley said looking up at T'Pol. She saw the two exchange glances and they both had an expression of concern. "I saw him do it, honest!" she added.

"Why would he do that?" T'Pol asked her.

"He agreed to give me my freedom in exchange for…" her voice trailed off and she stared down at her hands.

"In exchange for what?" T'Pol questioned as she stood at the side of the bed looming over the girl.

Riley turned her head and looked at the wall. "For my…" she hesitated and looked Trip right in the eye. "For my baby," she whispered.

Tucker held her gaze and watched as the tears began to well up in her eyes again. _Can McCann tell if she's been pregnant more than once? _he asked T'Pol mentally.

_Unlikely, _T'Pol answered him. "Did the child belong to him?" T'Pol asked Riley aloud.

Riley shook her head and closed her eyes. "I was a dancer and I … I got pregnant. Gowan, my last owner, was one of my regulars. When he found out about it, he traded some merchandise to buy me. He said if I gave him the baby he would help me get my freedom."

"Why would he want your child?" Trip asked her trying to understand.

"Gowan was Naree and he told me that his species couldn't reproduce and that is how they had offspring. They took from slaves or others and did something to the babies," Riley replied looking from Trip to T'Pol.

"The child was humanoid." T'Pol remarked.

"Like me, I think," Riley answered. "I'm not sure though." She shook her head.

"What do you mean like you?" Trip asked her.

"The man looked like….I thought he was … but I hadn't seen," she stammered.

_He was human, _Trip thought as she struggled to explain. "He was human?" Trip asked her. "Did you recognize his language as English."

"I don't know because my earring translated it to English…at least I thought it did," she said. "He said I reminded him of the girls back home because the dance was the same."

"The dance?" Trip questioned not understanding what she meant.

"It's different for every species. Some humanoids do it the same, but others …." Riley muttered quietly.

_For example, putting your hands in a bowl of rocks, _T'Pol said flatly to Trip in her head.

_I got it! _Trip slumped his head to the side. _Are you ever going to let that go? _He replied quite annoyed with her. He glanced at her sharply out of the corner of his eye.

_I was merely using it to help you understand what she meant by 'dance', _T'Pol replied arching her brow at him.

"Didn't he recognize your voice?" Trip asked Riley sneering mentally at T'Pol.

"I wasn't there to talk Captain," she replied softly.

_Of course not, _Trip thought. _Although the guy was a fricken idiot for not realizing she was human. _He pushed the irritation away as he brought her story back to the device. "Okay, you agree to give this Gowan person your child in exchange for your freedom," he said to her to make sure he understood her story. He watched her nod before continuing. "So how did you end up with Elnora?"

"A couple days after the baby was came, Gowan broke the transmitter. I watched him step on it and grind it to dust under his shoe. He left the baby with his mate and then he and I left on his ship," she said rocking slowly back and forth on the bunk. "He was a merchant and I guess he owed Elnora money because the hunters attacked the ship and boarded the vessel. They killed him and took everything on the ship as payment."

"Including you," Trip said finally understanding.

"The hunters saw the bonding marks and knew I had just given birth," Riley continued to say when Trip interrupted her.

"The bonding marks?" he asked her with a confused expression on his face.

"Bonding with a Naree is different and leaves marks… scars," She explained pointing to her backside. "The hunters took me to Elnora, so I could bond with her mate."

"Because they thought the child was a Naree/Human hybrid," Trip said as the picture of her situation became clear in his mind. He watched her nod.

"If you knew the hunters would come after you, why did you escape?" T'Pol asked still standing over Riley.

"I didn't escape," Riley said looking away from T'Pol. "Elnora's mate, knew of my pregnancy. I'm not sure, but the more I think about it, I think he planned it with another slave. It was important; it would give him control of the Royal Assets. Then Jarvick and Elnora began to fight and Jarvick left the ship. The next day, the guards attacked me," Riley remarked. She stared down at her hands. "The slaves saved me and put me in the pod, so Jarvick's ship could pick me up."

_What'd'ya think? _Trip asked T'Pol mentally and then nodded his head for her to step out of the room. "I'll be back in a minute," he said to Riley and stood to follow T'Pol. Once in the corridor, away from her door he stopped to discuss it with T'Pol.

"I believe she is telling the truth," T'Pol replied.

"What about the homing device?" Trip asked. "I don't know if I'm comfortable taking her word that it was destroyed."

"I think it would be prudent to take a closer look at the earring to see if we can disable it some way," T'Pol suggested.

"Yeah, Rybaiski should be able to help you," Trip said. "Have McCann find out if that Naree is still at the Starbase or if he left. Then have tactical scan for any ships tracking our position. I'll be up to the bridge in a few minutes. I need to set some ground rules with Riley."

T'Pol nodded and walked away from him toward the turbolift.

Trip walked back to Riley's room and stepped inside, this time with Corporal Navalle, an Andorian female security officer. Navalle remained just inside the door as Tucker walked over to the bunk and sat down in the chair. Riley was still sitting on the bunk, but had scooted her back against the wall.

"Am I in trouble Captain?" Riley asked him as she watched him sit down.

"No," Tucker replied. "Trust me, when you are in trouble with me, you'll definitely be able to tell. There are just a couple other things we need to discuss." He leaned over to rest his forearms on his thighs. "Solon can remove the marks on your arms and the scar on your forehead," Trip said motioning to his forehead and arms. "It's going to take a couple of days and it might hurt some," he said grimacing slightly.

"Worse than when I got them?" she replied. "The hunters put the mark on my forehead with a hot metal prong. I was awake," she winced just thinking about it. "I thought the burning was going to kill me."

"Okay, yeah, it won't hurt that much," Tucker said flinching as he pictured it in his head. _There are some really sick fucks out there, _he thought. "Corporal Kuhlie told me that one of your former owners was a Tellarite," he remarked in a questioning way.

"Two," she mumbled getting nervous again. "They weren't ....nice."

He could tell by the way she said it and acted it wasn't an experience she wanted to repeat. _Great, _he muttered to himself. "Well, there are Tellarites on the ship."

"Why?" she asked with wide opened eyes.

"They're members of the crew. I don't expect any problems because they have gone through special training to be stationed on the ship. I just wanted you to be aware so we don't have any incidents like yesterday, okay?" Tucker remarked. He watched her nod. "The other thing is this room is on the same deck as the mess hall and when you are comfortable, I'm okay with you going there on your own, without an escort. Once the doc gives you clearance you can go to the rec room on deck five as well. But there are rules. You need to be back to your room no later than eight at night. That's twenty hundred hours on the chronometer."

"Okay," Riley muttered quietly. "Can I have visitors later?"

Trip thought about it for less than a second. "No," he said mulling it over in his head. _Late night visitors are just an opportunity for trouble, _he thought. "Lastly you are not to have sexual contact of any kind with any member of the crew. You should not be seeking it out nor should any member of the crew be soliciting it from you. If anyone on the crew confronts you with such behavior, I expect you to inform me of it immediately." Trip said flatly. He locked his gaze on her and held it as he made his point. "Am I clear?"

"Yes Captain," she answered chewing on her lip.

"I mean it Riley," he said noticing a change in her posture. "You are considered a minor in the eyes of the court on Earth and sexual conduct between minors and adults is prohibited by law.

"I got," she said brushing her red hair out of her face. "Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Will you come and visit me, alone?" Riley asked him with a hopeful expression on her face.

"That's not a good idea Riley," he reminded her. "In fact, you shouldn't have any male crew in your room at any time alone. There should always be a female with you," he said pointing at Navalle at the door.

"I don't mean like that Captain," Riley countered when she realized what she had implied. "Without the Vulcan lady. She's mean."

Tucker chuckled and shook his head. During the time he had known T'Pol, he had heard her described many ways, but _mean_ wasn't one of them. _I'm sure I probably thought that a time or two that first year, _he thought remembering a couple of head to head arguments on the bridge with her. "She's not mean," he finally said. "Vulcans just suppress their emotions, so they sound mean. She's actually a very nice person."

"You're just saying that because you like her," Riley replied.

"We've served together for a long time," Tucker said still chuckling.

"No, I mean you _like _her, you're a couple," Riley remarked in a low voice. She winked at him. "I can tell. I'm a dancer, it's my place to know who I can flirt with for profit and who to stay away from."

_She's a smart one,_ he thought glancing over to see if Navalle was listening. _I hope we're not that obvious to everyone. _"So you know to stay away from me," he said sheepishly. "And every other guy on the crew?"

Riley sighed and smiled at him for the first time. "Yes Captain," she replied. "And I will tell you if anyone approaches me."

00-00

He said nothing when she answered the door. They stood motionless as their eyes told a story that only an insider would understand. He pushed her against the bulkhead and covered her mouth with his, probing her lips and tongue. He trapped her wrists in his hands as she squirmed in his grasp. He pinned her against the wall, while fumbling to pull her shirt out of her sweatpants. The minute his hand found its way to her breast and he began to knead it, she moaned into his mouth. He rubbed himself against her mound and moved his hand toward the waist band of her sweat pants. He could feel her heat through the cloth. He watched her eyes under him as he ran his hand over her rear and inched his fingers closer to the front. His lips against hers melted the ice and the contempt in her eyes began to soften as she gave in to his demands

Her pants dropped to the floor and his fingers were crawling inside of her quickly, touching the exact point of her molten core to elicit a response from her throat. He nipped at her lips while fumbling with the zipper of his uniform pants and then his underwear, which could barely contain his excitement. He squatted to position her perfectly and moved himself inside of her, shoving her against the wall as he entered her fully. He felt her legs wrap around his waist, her arms encase his neck as drove harder into her core. Her red hair was moist with sweat and stuck haphazardly to her face as she unzipped his uniform jacket and bit down on his shoulder by the base of his neck trying to control her response to his invasion. His movements were quick and precise as he pushed her down on him by the small of her back, taking her to that moment in time when she couldn't control herself.

"Stop," she gasped in his ear. She gritted her teeth when she realized it didn't matter anyway. She shuddered in her release as he held on tight and a low moan escaped from her lips.

"You don't want me to stop. Admit it," he whispered still thrusting her harder against the wall.

"What are you going to do when the Captain finds out?" she questioned him, as she tried to push back from his chest.

"You going to tell him?" he questioned as he knocked her against the wall and held himself against her center. He felt her shudder again and laughed in her face. "You don't have the nerve." He felt his control slipping and the small of his back squeeze into a knot. He increased his pressure as his seed emptied into her core. "Fuck," he whispered into her ear as he moved teasingly against her center.

After a moment he carefully set her down on the floor and attempted to kiss her again. She turned her head and pushed him away from her. He chuckled at her response and walked into the head to clean up. When he walked out a minute later he was neatly put back together.

"I hate you," she muttered with tears streaming down her face. She was dressed and standing in the middle of the room "I hate you Shane McCann."

"No you don't Birdie," he said quietly. He walked across the room and tried to draw her into his arms. She jerked away from him and slapped him across the face.

"Get away from me," she yelled at him. "Who do you think are you? You think you can just waltz into my room and take what you want?" she backed up against the window.

Shane blinked a couple of times and rubbed his face where she had smacked him. Considering her training, it wasn't a real slap. "I didn't see you resisting. Sure you asked me to stop, but you didn't really want me too," Shane remarked with a smirk. "I saw the way you were looking at me in the staff meeting and how close you sat by me at lunch." He rested his hands on his hips and stared her down. "How you looked at me right before I made you cum. I know that look. You wanted me. You were wet before I even touched you."

"Oh you're full of yourself aren't you?" Birdie replied angrily. "Big man on campus!"

"Go ahead!" he yelled back at her flinging his arm at the door. "Run to the fricken Captain and tell him. What are you going to say? Huh? That you're fiancé fucked you in your stateroom?"

Birdie growled and shook her head. "I am **not **your fiancé! That was over a year and a half ago when you walked out!"

"I didn't walk out on you! You're the one that shut me out!" He said loudly. "What was I supposed to tell Starfleet? Sorry I can't take this really great promotion that will jump start my career because I need to wallow in self pity for a while?"

"Yeah, that would have been a start!" she said turning away from him and staring out the window. "Like you've been faithful to me all this time? You probably have a girl back on the Starbase."

"No, I don't."

"Why? Because you broke up this morning?"

"Actually it was last night," he said trying to get her to laugh.

She turned around and glared at him. "Don't even try to insult my intelligence! This morning, last night... whatever! I'm not stupid Shane. You never change." She said evenly. "Get out!"

Shane stood motionless in the middle of the room and dropped his arms in frustration. "Fine! I'll leave," he said. "But you and I both know that if you truly didn't want to be with me again, my ass would have been on the deck with a phase pistol shoved up my nose. My quarters are on deck two, room 29 when you get over this funk you're in." McCann turned on his heel and left her standing alone.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Freddie Alvarez lay motionless on the bottom bunk of the bed and listened intently for any sound from the hallway, from the next stateroom, or from the ship's engine. All was quiet, a little too quiet in his opinion. Noise was common on a starship. As crews adjusted to a life at space, little knocks, clunks, and rumbling all became a part of the everyday experience. This was not the case today or any of the last few days. Alvarez slowed his respirations and strained his ears trying to pick up anything. It had been quiet for hours and considering the ships status, that scared the hell out of him.

"I didn't sign up for this," he cursed under his breath as he crawled off the bunk and walked to the hatch. He pressed his ear to the door to see if he could make out any sound in the hallway. "I've been shot at, shot, stabbed, punched, kicked and nearly drowned but no way in hell did I join Starfleet to be kidnapped by walking lizards." He stood at the door for several minutes and then walked across the room to look out the window. There was nothing outside but the nebula gas.

He walked back to the bunk dejectedly and retraced the events that brought him to this moment. Two years ago, he was assigned to Columbia as quartermaster. An electrician by trade, he enlisted in Starfleet because he couldn't pass the entrance boards for the academy and worked his way through the ranks until he had an opportunity to fly through the stars. As a Chief Petty Officer, he could have worked in Engineering or Power Distribution or even Bio-Matter Processing, but the only position Columbia had open was the quartermaster. He accepted Captain Hernandez's offer and quickly became the on board jack-of-all-trades. Alvarez was a little guy compared to the rest of the males on board. His small frame and wiry stature in addition to his electronics background made him very valuable to the chief engineer.

The first eight months of the voyage seemed normal for a novice shipper. Columbia remained within fifteen light years of Earth as part of the defense perimeter after the border wars. Then as things began to settle down, the reins of Columbia's leash were cut and their mission of exploration was allowed to flourish again. Once the vessel was out in uncharted territory, Alvarez began to notice small changes around the ship.

The first incident came after the Captain made a clandestine visit to Draylax. While no one was the wiser that the Captain had even left the ship, Alvarez witnessed a heated conversation between her and Commander Sadek, the First Officer, shortly after her return. Then slowly week by week it became more obvious to Alvarez and a handful of others of the dissidence among the senior staff. The Captain began to take unnecessary risks, putting the ship and the crew in danger. The focal point of those risks was Columbia's assignment to patrol the newly established Neutral Zone.

Starfleet Command assigned the task and in the beginning, it seemed harmless enough. Sure, the crew expected some skirmishes with the Romulan's or their allies along the border. It grew into an animal of its own as Captain Hernandez began to cross the line in an effort to "lend aide" to various species on the Romulan side of the fence. On more than one occasion, Columbia barely escaped those mercy missions with the skin of their teeth. They took casualties over time and it affected the morale of the crew. Hernandez would recite the same speech after every encounter. At first, it rallied the crew to believe in her cause, but later it all just became meaningless words that ignited distrust and questions regarding her leadership.

Then a month ago, things started to go sour. An unknown species attacked the ship; eight crewman died including the doctor and the chief engineer. The Captain was critically wounded and Commander Sadek took control of the ship. He notified Starfleet of their situation and was ordered to pull back from the zone and rendezvous with Phoenix at Benzar. The journey would take eight weeks at warp four.

Sadek reassigned Alvarez to Engineering shortly after he took command and brought him into his confidences immediately. The information he shared wasn't anything new to Freddie. Alvarez already questioned the Captain's decisions and was keen to her gullibility over the past weeks. The only enlightening disclosure was over half the ship was behind Sadek. He, the doctor and the chief engineer had secretly been in contact with Starfleet for weeks regarding Hernandez's mental health and her ability to remain in command of the ship. The rendezvous with Phoenix was a ruse for Starfleet to assess Hernandez.

Sadek was only in command for a couple of weeks before the Captain was well enough to resume her duties. By that time, the orders from Starfleet were set in stone and Captain Hernandez was required to report in daily to Admiral Cooper. Hernandez was furious at Sadek for his breech of confidence and after an all out barrage on the bridge; he was relieved of command and escorted to the brig by Hernandez's chosen few. Alvarez worked his charm on the Captain after that, gleaning just enough information from her to keep Sadek and the rest of their supporters informed of the ship's functions.

Alvarez cursed at the irony of it all; they should have seen it coming. Hernandez followed Admiral Cooper's orders and proceeded to Benzar, but allowed the ship to drift off course under the premise of "peaceful exploration". Those deviations from their flight path put the ship in contact with the hostile species and resulted in small skirmishes that damaged key systems. Before the repairs were completed, they were attacked again. The aggressors took their time over of a period of weeks to peck away at Columbia's defenses until they were dead in water. They were never out gunned, just outwitted and then completely scammed.

In retrospect, the execution of the entire operation was slick. Their kidnappers strategically planned the attacks and conveniently came to "lend aide" in Columbia's time of need. They even enticed the Captain and her entourage to visit their ship as a measure of good faith and then boarded Columbia under the pretense of repairing the ship. The boarding parties caught the crew off guard and it wasn't long before they were overpowered and corralled into two cargo bays. Within a day, all but a handful of the crew were transported off the ship.

"I guess I'm one of the lucky ones," Alvarez muttered as he considered their current situation. He, the first officer and eight others, engineers, science technicians, and the communication officer remained aboard the ship. The crew was allowed to make minor repairs to the ship and then ordered, at gunpoint, to fly into a nebula a few light years away. Afterwards they were locked down in crew quarters on D and E-Decks.

For the most part the kidnappers treated them okay. Allowances were made for them to eat in the mess hall, go to the gym and converse with each other openly. Based on observations, Freddie and the other men suspected the guards were tormenting the females in private, although neither woman would admit it. Freddie had asked Ensign Miner, the communications officer, about it several times and she denied it. _Not very convincingly though, _he reminded himself. It was probably for the best, the last thing they needed was to give the guards a reason to kill anyone of them. _Especially now that their escape plan was starting to take shape, _Freddie nodded. Things were falling into place nicely.

On the first day in the nebula, quick thinking by Alvarez and Lieutenant Keller and the written order from Admiral Cooper secured their use of the communications array. From there Ensign Miner convinced the guards to allow her to read and reply to sub-space communications from Starfleet Command under the guise of business as usual aboard ship. The logic was sound and the guards went for it without questioning the motive. The six remaining crewmen played along with the ruse and did whatever was asked of them to avoid any suspicion. With a little ingenuity between the nine, they had come up with an escape plan and carefully calculated its execution.

Alvarez collapsed on the bunk and ran his fingers through his hair and over the stubble of his beard. He was getting antsy. The crew could easily overpower the guards and get the ship back on course to Benzar. That wasn't good enough; however, they needed to rescue the crew. Without reinforcements, they would have a hard time pulling it off. Timing was the key to success but the waiting game was killing him.

00-00

Lieutenant Kyle Mahoney paced across the room impatiently. T_wenty paces across, thirty-five paces deep, and then its forty paces down the corridor to the door that leads to the courtyard. The courtyard doesn't appear to be fenced or guarded. Its two clicks to the road, _the details rolled around in his head as he mentally visualized the layout. He turned around and surveyed the room carefully taking in everything as if he had been seeing it for the first time, instead of day eight of his confinement.

The room was void of any décor and gray paint adorned the walls. Five bunks lined the back of the room. A cabinet near the door contained pants and slippers in gray. The door to the room was unlocked and opened into a corridor that led to other rooms just like his. Four rooms along the hallway total, each was set up exactly alike. Ten males were assigned to each room. Mahoney's roommates were all from Columbia, the other rooms were a mix of Columbia's crew and other humanoids.

The inhabitants of the rooms were tagged with security bracelets on their wrists. In addition to being a universal translator, the devices allowed them to roam the grounds freely to a point. Mahoney could leave the room, walk down the corridor to the left and enter the dining and recreational area of the compound. They were even allowed to walk unsupervised in the courtyard. For being held hostage by an alien species, their living conditions were good and certainly had appealing benefits.

_The benefits, _Mahoney thought as he sat down on his bunk. _A guy would be hard-pressed to want to leave here. _The recreation area was a nightclub of sorts … music, drinks, and women … lots of them, different species, all scantily dressed and all in the mood for 'action'_. A little too in the mood, _Mahoney reflected as he sat there. The ratio of the men and women that made up the entertain was nearly 4 to 1 and the action … was literally anything goes. Once a guy walked through the door, it was hard to resist. _Impossible actually, as if we're drugged, _Mahoney speculated.

The guards had every opportunity to drug them. Everything was provided for the captives, clothing, food, sleeping areas and breathable air, all of which could easily be tainted without anyone knowing better. The entertainment was available anytime of the day or night and the prisoners could partake in the activities as much as they wanted, but they had to go at least once every thirteen hours. If the security band wasn't logged on the rec room sensors within a specific interval, a disciplinary measure would be taken. The band would send a jolt of electricity through the detainee's arm and render the prisoner unconscious on the floor. The guards would then remove him to an undisclosed area. Two of Mahoney's crewmates had already been the victim of such discipline and neither had returned to the compound.

The door to the room burst open, Ensign Mike George, and Crewman Brice Lake, barreled through. Both men collapsed exhausted on their bunks.

"Dude," Lake moaned as he slowly pulled his legs up on the mattress. "I cannot go back there in thirteen hours. I don't even know if I could go back there in three days."

"I don't think that's an option," Mahoney retorted as he stood up and walked over toward Lake's bunk.

"You need to pace yourself Laker," Ensign George replied rolling on his side. "Then you don't feel so …. spent," he mumbled kicking off his slippers and pulling the blanket over his head.

"I feel like my dick is broken," Lake whined from under his blanket.

Mahoney walked to the cabinet and pulled out an ice pack. He walked back to the bunk and handed it to Lake. "This should make you feel better. Where's Burrows?"

"He should be back any minute," George replied. "He was all kissy with the pretty boy when we left."

"Any word of Kretch or Sams?" Lake asked with a hopeful expression on his face.

"Nothing. Hopefully Burrows got some information from Tyreen," Mahoney answered. Just as he spoke, another man walked in the door. "Speak of the devil," Mahoney commented as he realized it was Burrows.

"Why is it you look so relaxed and I feel like I'm going to die?" Lake asked him as he propped himself up on his bed.

"Cause you're young and dumb Lake," Lieutenant Burrows replied sitting down on the end of George's bunk.

"What did you find out?" George asked him, moving his legs so he had more room.

Burrows sighed heavily. "Nothing you want to hear," he replied glancing slowly at all three men. "Besides the guards, everyone in this compound is a captive."

The door opened and three more of Columbia's crew entered. The men gathered around the bunk and listened intently to Burrows. When he had their attention, he continued. "The reptilians that captured us are the Anoree. As is Tyreen and the rest of reptilian females, they were brought here specifically to procreate."

"Procreate?" George guffawed. "Can't they do that with their own species?"

"No, the males on their world are sterile," Burrows explained watching the faces of his crewmates. "If they do nothing, in a hundred years the Anoree will be extinct. Their medical personnel are trying to extend their lineage by seeking out compatible humanoid DNA to produce hybrids. Tyreen said there were compounds just like this all over the city."

"Wait a minute … the Anoree _females_ are captives as well?" Lake asked.

"More or less," Crewman Richert interjected from where he was kneeling on the floor. "Maklo is my female. She"s been here a year and hasn't been allowed to leave or contact her family."

"Tyreen said pretty much the same thing. She was abducted right out of her front yard. She also told me in the past six months three Anoree females from this compound were impregnated by humanoids," Burrows remarked. "But for whatever reason, the doctors weren't able to tell which species was responsible."

Mahoney pursed his lips. "So they just keep trying?"

"Basically, but there's the catch … The Anoree only come into cycle once every four or five months, that makes the window of opportunity much smaller."

"Maklo is just coming into her cycle now," said Crewman Richert leaning in for the conversation. "She'll be in it six days and then she's done."

"How many Anoree females are here?" Mahoney asked checking the chronometer on his security band.

"Over two hundred," Burrows answered.

"There's two hundred Anoree? Then what's the deal with the other females?"

"They're slaves. Basically they are here to entertain us and keep us engaged," Burrows replied flatly. "To them we're called Attendants. As long we do what they ask, we're safe. Don't comply, we're in trouble."

"Sams and Kretch?" another crewman mumbled.

"They're probably dead. When attendants become argumentative or are no longer useful, they're disposed of," Burrows replied. He scanned the crewmen around the bunk and did a mental head count. "Where's Miller?"

"He's still in the rec room."

"What about the females from Columbia?" Lake asked Burrows. A few of the other crew nodded their heads.

"Maklo said some are here …. In the medical lab," Richert added. "She has to report to the lab everyday when we're done with our _session _and she saw humans there."

"Do you trust her?" Burrows asked him. He watched the man nod. "Will she help us?" Richert nodded again.

"Good," Mahoney remarked taking the leadership role in the group. "Then we need to start working on an escape plan."

00-00

Screams echoed down the empty corridor and reverberated on the walls of the cell. Cries of women, maybe even men and the flat sound of physical violence tormented the captives lying in their bunks. Ensign Kelly Morgan curled on her side and pulled the thin blanket closer to her chest. She counted out the minutes in her head until it was her turn. _When it is my turn, I will not cry out, _she told herself repeatedly trying to make herself believe. _I will not let my capturers know they can hurt me. _

Over the course of the past eight days, one by one her cell mates had been taken. Twelve at the start, eight from Columbia, and four from species she never knew existed. Each one led away by reptilian men at different intervals that had no rhyme or reason. Some walked proudly out of the room. Others were beaten and dragged away. _When it is my time to go, I will leave here on my power. These men will not take my honor from me, _she resolved as she and her bunkmate lay still and waited.

She closed her eyes and prayed this was all a dream, cursing Captain Hernandez for getting them into this mess in the first place. She hadn't signed on to Starfleet to become a prisoner on an alien world. She was a nurse, recruited right out of school to serve with the glossy promise to see beautiful alien worlds, meet new species and make a difference. The sales pitch was rich and Kelly fell for it lock, stock and barrel. And while she did see some beautiful things from the comfort and safety of Columbia, mostly she saw death and destruction.

Her first assignment in space came during the Romulan Border Wars. Kelly had served for eight months on the Republic, right up to the moment when the Romulan's blasted the ship out of the sky. The Chief Engineer had given the order to abandoned ship after the Captain was killed and the bridge had been blown to pieces. She remembered running down the corridor from sickbay, tripping over the bodies of people she had regarded as friends, on her way to the escape pods. As the ship collapsed around her, she was hit by falling debris and had to crawl down a smoke filled corridor. Kelly remembered hands grabbing her and shoving her into a pod, only to be ejected into space alone and helpless.

She floated for five days before an Andorian ship found her and scooped her up. They nursed her and seven others from her ship back to health and asked nothing of them in return. After six days, Kelly was well enough to help treat others in their medical bay. She stayed for three months, doing whatever she could do for the dying and the few injured that she came across. When she finally returned to Earth, she had had enough and resigned her commission.

"A lot of good that did," she mumbled quietly to herself. Doctor Brackett, the Chief Medical Officer of Columbia, talked her out of quitting at her exit interview. Again, tales of exciting exploration and glossy images of alien lands hooked her. Brackett promised her safe passage on the flagship of the fleet, Columbia. So once again, Ensign Kelly Morgan became part of a family in space that was ripped apart at the seams.

Kelly had been working in sickbay the night Commander Sadek, Commander Jansig and Brackett had met covertly to discuss Hernandez's health. She overheard all of the conversation and later Brackett had pulled her aside and sworn her to secrecy. The missions the Captain claimed they were ordered to partake in were not Starfleet's doing. The Captain had altered logs and reports to record the ship in different places. The deaths were covered up and the bodies dumped in space.

Kelly witnessed uncharacteristic flares ups between the Captain and her senior staff. Arguments, loud and long, occurred down the hallway outside the Captain's quarters. Rumors of a mutiny circulated between the crew and people began to pick sides. Kelly had aligned herself with the First Officer, the Chief Engineer and Dr. Brackett and felt safe under their halo. Then the unthinkable happened after the ship _inadvertently _crossed into the neutral zone.

The rumor was they had hit a Romulan mine, but whatever the truth, it didn't matter. The ship took substantial damage. Brackett, Commander Jansig, the Chief Engineer, as well as six other officers and crew were killed in the blast. The Captain was critically injured and barely clung to life in a coma for days. Commander Sadek took control of the ship and contacted Starfleet Command. The hierarchy told Morgan that Starfleet has ordered the ship to return to earth. For the first time in months, Kelly was at peace and vowed that this time when she got home, no one was going to trick her into remaining in the service.

_I'll never get home now; _she resigned to herself as she stared as the colorless mattress on her bunk. _If I don't die from whatever wounds will be inflicted upon me, I'll starve to death._ She had not eaten in three days. _If I had some balls I'd yell at the guards, _she thought almost laughing at the thought. _What are they going to do? Kill me? Please, make my day. In five or ten years, someone will find my bones buried at this god-forsaken place and wonder what happened to me. __Too bad I can't leave a note to tell everyone that Captain Hernandez's ignorance led us through the gates of hell. _Kelly heard the footsteps coming in the corridor and knew it only meant one thing. She felt her heart rate quicken in her throat. _I sure in the hell hope that Hernandez died screaming for her life just like the rest of us. _

_tbc_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Twenty-five days after leaving the Starbase.

Tracing the tip of her fingernail down the midline of his breastbone, she watched his chest rise and fall with every breath. She delicately ran the pads of her fingertips over his nipples fascinated how light pressure transformed them from dark ovals to tight points. She brushed her face against the skin of his neck and inhaled his essence. It tantalized her, heightened her senses, and stirred the cravings within. She watched him sleep for hours, restraining her every urge to become one with him. Snuggled close against his body, her leg intertwined with his, she made small deliberates movements. The sensations they evoked in her, the friction against her skin, sent shivers across every nerve fiber of her body.

As she worked through her frustrations to be closer to him, she became acutely aware of changes in his breathing. He was awake; playing a game he called _possum. _She challenged him silently, grazing her lips against him, her breasts dancing across his chest.

He captured her lips as she hovered above him and rolled her over on her back. Once contained in the cradle of her legs, he pushed into her slowly and deliberately, enjoying every second of the ecstasy that rippled over her face.

"Someone's been busy," he whispered, his breath husky and teasing her ear.

She didn't response verbally. Instead, she opened herself more to him, arching to get closer to him physically. Each thrust against her ignited a passion deep within. She raked her fingernails up his back and through his hair, keying in on pressure points at the base of his skull. Inwardly she smiled as he moaned in pleasure while she stroked his skin lightly.

When he touched the key deep inside her, she pulled him closer to her and felt herself melt into his pressure. She wrapped her legs around his torso, arching back her neck to expose her erogenous zone to him. As he nibbled on the sensitive skin on her neck, he ran his fingertips over the tip of her ear settling on the pressure point at the base of her neck. She gasped at he fingered it, feeling her eyes roll up in her head. She knew he was at his apex and with a little more friction between them, she would follow right behind.

Their lips crashed together in a madding frenzy as she felt her arms being pinned to the bed. His movement quickened against her, grinding against her pubic bone as he exploded within her core. She felt herself go just as he released himself and savored the sensation that washed across her face and body like a paralyzing mist. As she reveled in the connection, she felt a burning sensation growing inside her body, enveloping her thoughts. The moment of their release replayed in her head like an echo in a valley, reverberating deep inside her, teasing her at every nerve ending.

"T'Pol!"

The words jolted and shook her from the fog. She opened her eyes and looked at her mate with a startled expression.

"Are you okay?" Tucker whispered to her with furrowed eyebrows as he lay next to her.

"I …," she stammered not sure of herself. _When he lay down next to me? I thought we were making love, _she wondered feeling disoriented.

"Shhh," Tucker hissed and put his finger to her lips and then reached up and activated the comm panel above the headboard of his bed. "Tucker here."

"Captain, Admiral Ford is waiting to speak to you," remarked Ensign Braidi. "He says it's urgent."

T'Pol caught Tucker's 'perfect timing expression' with the ensign's words. He shooed her away from the bed before responding to the bridge. T'Pol pulled the sheet with her as she made her way to the latrine and shut the door between them. She could hear Trip and Admiral Ford's muffled voices behind the door but paid no attention to it. She already knew the details of their classified mission. It had inadvertently come out when they were making love almost a month ago. . Technically there was no harm done, T'Pol had the appropriate security clearance.

At the moment, that wasn't what concerned her, it was the burning sensation lingering inside her body. It wasn't going away and in fact seemed to be getting worse. She couldn't shake it; the raw feeling captivated her and made everything seem louder. Her breathing, the claustrophobic atmosphere of the bathroom, the rustling of the sheet around her body, the popping sounds her vertebrae made when she rolled her neck echoed loudly around her as she chased phantoms with her eyes. T'Pol turned the shower on and waited a moment for it to warm. As she stepped under the hot water, she noticed herself trembling. She leaned against the side of the shower and tried to calm herself internally. She attempted to focus on the water cascading around her instead of the noises that taunted her. T'Pol slowed her breathing and relaxed as she began to regain control of senses, not a moment to soon.

Tucker burst through the door just as she began to wash herself. He threw his skivvies in the hamper and stepped in the shower with her.

"We need to be quick," he said ducking his head under the water. "Our mission profile just changed," He squirted soap in his hand and began to lather up. "Columbia's missing."

"Missing?" T'Pol questioned as she watched him. The cascading effects of the water on his skin, the soap clinging to his tone muscles, all ignited the fire inside here and she struggled to push it away. "What do you mean missing?"

"Okay .. maybe missing isn't the right description ... Hernandez hasn't made her report in two days and guess what? They aren't responding to hails," he replied squirting more soap in his hand and running his palms over his hair working the soap into a rich lather.

T'Pol swallowed hard and forced herself to stop staring at her mate. Everything he was doing, lathering himself, scrubbing his hair, touching his skin was luring her into a hypnotic state. Her emotions stirred deep within her soul, clawing at her insides to make their way out. The feeling was turbulent and it frightened her, much like her irrational thoughts when she suffered through her addiction.

"Here, let me wash your back," he said turning her around without any effort.

Trip was oblivious to the effect he was having on T'Pol as his mind was elsewhere. She struggled to focus on the water as his hands skimmed over her skin, over her bottom and down the inside of her legs. He was teasing her as he did it, but her hormones were on a rampage. Images danced in her head, some poetic, some violent and some … she shook her head. _That's not the thing to be thinking about right now, _she thought as she felt him turning her around. She opened her eyes and held his stare for a moment. He was standing close to her, a little too close actually.

"What shouldn't you be thinking about?" he asked her as he looked down at the woman that consumed his life.

"Being intimate," she whispered barely audible, cursing herself mentally as she blocked that part of her thoughts from him.

He trailed his eyes over the sight of her body. "Hmmm, you're frisky today," he moaned as he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips connected like electricity. He pulled back slightly and let his hot breath escape from his mouth onto her delicate lips. "That's a tempting thought, but you're right, we don't have time for that," he said huskily. He ducked under the stream one more time. "At least I don't. Maybe you should play with the shower head a little." He added motioning at her body and the faucet. She watched him step from the shower and run the towel through his hair to soak up the moisture.

When she felt herself being sucked into the sight in front of her, she turned her back to him. She stepped back under the stream and sighed heavily. _Today is going to be a long day,_ she thought as she tried to focus on something other than raping her mate.

00-00

_This is going to be one long day, _Tucker thought as he left the conference room after finishing a meeting with the department heads. He looked down at the PADD he was carrying and scanned the information to see where he was supposed to be next. _Senior staff meeting, done. Bridge staff meeting, done. Department head meeting, done. Lunch, not done, _he thought as he checked items off his to-do list. He stepped into the turbolift and pushed the button for deck three.

"Rybaiski to Tucker."

Tucker scowled as he dug his communicator out of his pocket. "Tucker," he replied flipping the device open.

"Gotta minute?"

"I'm on my way to lunch."

"Okay, it can wait. Visit Engineering when you're done."

"Tucker out," he mumbled. _Great! Now what? _he thought as he almost reversed the lift's course. _We don't have time for the engine to start acting up! _The door slid open before he could change his mind.

Tucker exited the turbolift and headed down deck three to the main mess hall. He could smell the lunch special, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, as he turned the corner and walked through the door of the room.

"Captain, can I bring you the special?" a steward asked Tucker as he breezed by the door.

"Sure, easy on the gravy," he replied scanning the room for T'Pol. He spotted her in the corner and walked to the table. _Darlin, aren't you eating? _he asked her mentally as he neared the table.

_I've already finished Th'y'la, _she replied looking up at him. She watched him wink at her and sit down in the chair opposite of hers.

"Did you look at the data I gave you earlier?" Trip asked her just as the steward set a plate of food in front of him. He picked up the fork and dug in.

T'Pol eyed the food on his tray for a moment and picked up the PADD sitting next to her. "Yes, I've made some notes for you," she replied calmly. She set the PADD down and slid it across the table to him. _There doesn't seem to be anything noteworthy on their flight path that would have caused them to deviate, _she said quietly through the bond.

"Did you make that assessment as a Vulcan or a Human?" he asked her as he punched a few buttons on the PADD. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her pick up a fork a take a bite of his mashed potatoes. A big bite, covered in gravy. "Are you hungry?" he asked watching her stick the forkful in her mouth.

She swallowed and picked up her glass of water. "I'm famished."

He was mid bite when she answered and he looked up at her without moving his head. She had set herself up for this and he just couldn't resist. He set his fork down and leaned in closer to her. "A lil nookie always did give me the munchies," he whispered and then sat back expecting to watch her squirm. She rolled her eyes and played it off without drawing any attention to herself much to his dismay. "Do you want me to get you something?"

"No, I'll eat your potatoes," she replied taking another forkful.

"Okay," he replied slowly. "That gravy is made from beef broth," he cautioned. He tried to read her thoughts, but she was blocking him.

"I know," she replied flatly. _As for Hernandez, _she said mentally changing the subject. _Did Admiral Ford comment on her daily reports? Specifically did they seem…_ her thoughts trailed off as she lost her focus.

_Crazy? _he finished the sentence for her. "He didn't say, although I can bet they weren't exactly accurate, considering the report from the CMO," he said thoughtfully. "You know, I could understand the situation if we were in a war zone," he remarked. _She's just out there flying around looking at the stars, _he rambled on mentally trying to understand.

_Something obviously happened to lead her down this path, _T'Pol replied coolly. _I'm sure the same could have been said of Captain Archer when we were looking for the Xindi. _She reached across the table and snatched several green beans off his plate with her fork.

He watched her warily. "What'd'jew eat?" he asked concerned by her behavior.

"A salad and vegetables," she replied quietly.

"And you're still hungry? Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied curtly and set her fork down.

Tucker scowled in disbelief. He wasn't falling for the _I'm fine _response today. There wasn't any point in pushing the matter because she obviously wasn't going to tell him the truth.

"That's why I said I would understand if the situation was different," Tucker said going back to Columbia. "But putting her crew in danger for no valid reason? That's questionable." He stuck the last piece of meatloaf in his mouth and looked down at the information on the PADD. "I need to go to engineering to talk to Stu," he paused and winked at her. "Would you like to come?" he asked her wiping his mouth with the napkin and standing up from the table.

00-00

_Can this day get any worse_? Trip thought shutting his eyes. _Why did I decide to become a captain? If these were my engines, we'd be flying at warp seven by now. _He stared at the data on the monitor in front of him. It wasn't the truth and he knew it. Phoenix was no different from Enterprise or Columbia in respect to the ship's ability to maintain maximum warp long term. Enterprise could hold warp five point two for a couple hours before the coils would begin to fry. Regardless whether Phoenix could achieve warp seven or not, even at warp six point five, she was still the fastest ship in the fleet. Top speed for the Captain Harvick's racer, Bristol was warp six. The same went for Darlington, Brickyard, Dubuque and Talladega, the starships built jointly with the Andorian's just after the Romulan War.

When they left the McKinley space dock a month ago, it wasn't that big of deal that they couldn't go faster than six point five. Admiral Stewart and he had assured Starfleet that it was all part of working out the kinks. Enterprise couldn't achieve warp five until almost a year into their mission. Even yesterday it didn't matter that much to Trip that they couldn't attain six point nine, but today was a different story. He had a bad feeling about this Columbia thing and even at warp six, six point two, or three or five they were still ten days away from doing a damn thing about it.

Trip stared sightless at the monitor. "How long until we have maximum warp?" he asked gritting his teeth. He wasn't even sure why he asked, considering he already knew the answer. He turned around to look at Dempsey who answered first.

"You can have maximum warp in two minutes if you really want it Captain," Dempsey replied flatly. He stood firm in his stance and rested his hands on his hips.

"But how long can we sustain it without doing the bow-wow? That's the real question," Rybaiski added with a cheesy grin on his face.

"Bow-wow?" T'Pol questioned him. She stood next to the three men with her arms crossed at her chest.

"You know ruff ruff, bow-wow, give a dog a bone?" Rybaiski teased with the ancient nursery rhyme. He noted the serious expression on T'Pol's face. "It's a nursery rhyme Commander," he added.

"I don't see the correlation between a nursery rhyme and the status of our warp engines," she replied flatly.

"It's a joke," Rybaiski said sarcastically. "I was speaking metaphorically."

Tucker could feel a headache coming on and suddenly he was very warm. He covered his mouth with his palm for a second and then interrupted Stu as he was trying to explain himself to T'Pol. "Drop it," he said firmly. "Warp drive," he repeated trying to draw Rybaiski back to the matter at hand.

"It's a stabilization issue," Dempsey interrupted. His antennae dipped forward in clear annoyance of Rybaiski's quips. "We can travel at warp six point eight or nine and maybe even seven for short bursts of time, perhaps a couple of hours, maybe four hours at the most. Long term…the dynamics start to break down. The saucer section dips and the nacelles flip up," he said keying the monitor to play the simulation.

Trip watched the screen. "Like an inverted wheelie," he mumbled.

"The ship would surely explode if we rolled over at that speed," T'Pol said looking at the monitor.

"I created a safety sub routine this morning to make sure that doesn't happen," Dempsey said. "The system will monitor the angle of the saucer section and drop us out of warp the second the saucer dips below the acceptable range."

"Why didn't this come out during our test flights?" Tucker asked directing his focus at the monitor again.

"Well if you'll remember Captain, we didn't test it for long term travel. The longest test flight that you and I went on was three hours," Rybaiski replied.

"This engine is modified from an Andorian schematic," Tucker remarked turning back toward Dempsey. "Did you have this problem on your ships?"

"No," Dempsey replied. "But we didn't have any ships with the nacelles tucked under the saucer either."

Trip tilted his head, thought about it for a second, and then switched the view on the monitor to a cross section of the ship. "The nacelles aren't tucked under the saucer section," he mumbled. In his comfort zone, he suddenly had an idea about the warp problem. He keyed some data into the computer and pulled up a schematic of the Republic. "Phoenix's design was based on the Republic."

"An planet hop, with a warp three engine," Rybaiski commented.

Trip nodded and pointed at the monitor. "See how the saucer is balanced with the nacelles? The design mimics a small 'e'."

"Those nacelles are larger than ours," Dempsey commented staring at the graphic.

"They had to be to balance the load," Trip explained and switched the monitor back to the view of Phoenix. "The engineering studies showed on a larger ship, the nacelles needed to be pulled back from the saucer to balance the warp field."

Dempsey studied the schematic closely. His antennae bent back on his head. "It makes sense that you would need to elongate the ship to balance the field," Dempsey said agreeing with the premise.

"Maybe the nacelles are back to far," Tucker said pointing at the nacelles on the graphic. "And it's making us top heavy."

"We worked through that on the simulations before Starfleet agreed on the nacelle location," Rybaiski argued.

"That was before they added four decks," Tucker reminded him.

"You think four decks are making us top heavy?" Rybaiski countered. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught T'Pol swaying slightly in her stance. "Are you okay Commander?" Rybaiski asked her turning around.

Trip turned toward T'Pol just as she lost her balance and stumbled sideways. "T'Pol?" Trip blurted out hooking her arm and catching her as she fainted. "Whoa," he mumbled as he laid her back on the deck. "T'Pol?" he watched her eyes roll back in her head. "Get a medic," he called out to anyone that was listening.

"Engineering to sick bay," Tucker heard Dempsey on the comm. "I need medic down here on the double."

Rybaiski pulled a med kit from the first aide station and was about to flip it open when Lieutenant David Haas appeared out of nowhere with a medical tricorder in hand. While he scanned T'Pol, Rybaiski tossed Trip an ice pack. Haas pulled a hypo-spray out of his med kit, adjusted the dosage and applied the appliance to the commander's neck.

Trip watched as T'Pol's eyelids fluttered and she slowly became aware of her position on the deck. "Easy," he said to her putting a firm hand on her shoulder anticipating her impulse to jump up. "You okay?" he asked as she struggled into a sitting position.

T'Pol pulled back from Haas and looked at the officers hovering over her. "I'm fine," she replied flatly. "It is rather warm in here." She rested against Trip's leg while he placed the ice pack on the back of her neck and held it there for a moment.

"You'll need to be checked out in sickbay, Commander," Haas said as he stood to leave engineering.

"Thanks Lieutenant, I'll take her there myself," Tucker replied. He tried to read T'Pol's thoughts again, but her blocks remained in place. "Run the simulations just like we did at space dock," he said directing the focus back to the warp issue. "And factor in those extra decks."

"Because you think we're top heavy?" Rybaiski asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Yes. Humor me a little," Tucker said impatiently more concerned with his mate then their speed at the moment. He helped T'Pol get to her feet and walked with her to the door. "Keep me updated."

"Aye sir," Rybaiski said as he watched them leave the room.

00-00

"What's wrong?" Trip asked T'Pol as soon as he closed the hatch. He walked next to her toward the turbolift.

"Nothing, I told you I was fine," she replied holding the ice pack to the back of her neck.

Tucker looked around the corridor to see if anyone was watching. He stopped walking and grabbed her arm, gently pulling her back to him. "This is me you're talking to," he said to her in a low tone. "You may be able to fool Rybaiski or Haas with that line, but I'm your husband." He pulled her chin up so he could look her in the eye. Her skin was very warm to the touch. "You're blocking me," he said when he tried to scan her thoughts. He let go of her and stepped back just as a crewman rounded the corner.

"I'm fine," she said glancing away from him. "It…it might be a touch of the flu," she added when she knew he wasn't buying it.

"Maybe you picked up something at the outpost yesterday," Trip replied. He ushered her toward the turbolift.

"That's unlikely. The bio filters would have detected and neutralized it," she replied as they walked up to the lift. She took the ice pack off her neck and fiddled with it as they waited.

"That's not fool-proof, T'Pol," Trip said as the door slid open, he took the pack out of her hand and dropped it in the waste receptacle. "You need to have sick-bay sign off on your follow up anyway. I just have the doc run an extra scan." He pushed the button for deck four and the door slid shut.

The turbolift had barely ascended two decks when T'Pol reached over and stopped it. "We can't go to sickbay," she said flatly looking down at the floor.

He looked over at his mate and tried to read her again. _She's hiding something, _he thought. "Why not? If it's just the flu the doc can give you something for it," he said, He reached over to start the lift and she placed her hand over his.

"It's not the flu," she replied softly.

'What is it then?" He locked his gaze on her and it dawned on him what was happening before she let her barriers down. "The pon fah…?" he stammered feeling his face flush and anger boil up inside. The whole avoidance game she played on him all morning had tested the last nerve. He was ready to blow his top but he checked himself before he yelled at her. He bit his lip and shifted the weight on his feet. "This is why you've been blocking me all morning? When the hell were you planning on telling me?" He rested one hand on his hip and braced the other of the railing of the turbolift.

"I had planned on informing you this morning," she said backing up against the side of the lift. "After your call from Admiral Ford, I decided my personal needs weren't as important as the mission."

"Your personal needs?" Trip replied with his voice raised. He heard the echo in the lift and lowered the volume. "Correct me if I'm wrong but couldn't you die from this if you don't mate with someone, preferably me?"

"It's not time yet," she muttered refusing to look at him. "I think I can control it with the interaction we've already had and mediation."

"What do you mean it's not time yet? It wasn't time eleven years ago when you were stuck in decon with Phlox!" He was getting more upset with her by the minute. Just the thought that she would jeopardize her health because of the stupid mission they were on drove him crazy. He glared at her when she didn't respond and found her staring at the floor. "T'Pol, answer me."

"I'm not to start the Pon Farr until … we're bonded," she said finally looking up at him.

"Excuse me?" Trip replied looking her dead in the eye. "T'Pol contrary to your customs and beliefs, we're already _bonded_. We've been bonded for ten years."

T'Pol held his gaze and said nothing. Her emotions were raw and a tear rolled down her face. Suddenly Trip felt remorse for yelling at her. It was just like her to put the ship ahead of herself. He stepped closer to her and caught the next tear before it went any farther.

"I'm sorry," he said cupping her face in his hands. "It just tears me up inside when you try to act all tough and shield your health from me," he remarked pulling her close to his body. Even through her uniform he could feel the heat her body was generating. He wrapped an arm around her waist and captured her lips with his, kissing her deeply. He almost couldn't stop himself.

"Trip," she whispered pulling back from him. "As you said this morning, we don't have time."

"I'll make time," he muttered kissing her forehead. She caught him off guard by quickly pulling out of his grasp.

"No, you're not listening," she said her voice riddled with emotion and getting louder with every word. "In order for the Pon Farr to be completed, we would have to mate for several days. Columbia is missing Captain. Your focus needs to be on finding the ship and its crew, not on my needs at the moment."

He stood back from her and took a deep breath forcing down his own emotions and his desire for his mate. _She's wrong …. and she's right, _"Dammit!" he cursed rubbing his hand across his forehead. He reached over and restarted the turbolift. "We're still going to see the doctor," he said as the lift started moving. "Maybe he can give you something …. or." he paused and threw his hands up in frustration. "Tell us what we need to do," he muttered in compromise.

00-00

Solon was on duty in sickbay when Trip and T'Pol arrived minutes later. Trip paced nervously while Solon completed his scan of T'Pol. The bay was void of any patients and Solon had discretely asked Ensign Kendric to leave affording the Captain and T'Pol their privacy.

"Captain," Solon called for him to enter the curtained area. Trip was on the other side of the room and covered the distance in nearly one-step. "There's nothing I can do for T'Pol," he remarked flatly.

"Na…wha… What does that mean exactly," Tucker stammered with a shocked expression on his face.

"It means, quite simply, she's past the point of reversal," Solon replied. "T'Pol will need to follow this to its natural resolution." The Vulcan shifted his gaze from T'Pol to the Captain and noticed a nonverbal confrontation going on between them. "Is there a problem your ability to take it to completion?" he asked with a concerned tone.

"Yes." "Not exactly." The two responded in unison.

Solon eyed the two carefully trying to read between the lines of their response. He could see the frustration on both of their faces and could only imagine what was going on inside their heads. After neither spoke, Solon prodded Tucker to get some dialogue started. "Captain?"

"How…ah how long is that going to take?" Trip asked Solon and T'Pol.

T'Pol responded to him first. "As I said earlier, couples are sequestered for four days," she answered him. Before she could say anything else, Solon interrupted.

"I suspect it will take less time," Solon replied coolly. "Based on your scans, the pon farr has already begun. I'm sure you've noticed the symptoms already, hot flashes, headaches, dizziness and the unquenchable desire to mate." He walked over to the counter and prepared a hypospray.

"We don't have time," T'Pol began to argue again and Trip held his hand up to stop her.

"Not another word about it T'Pol!" He realized it came out a little too firmly when both T'Pol and Solon snapped their heads up at him. "As I see it we have plenty of time. Even at warp six point five, we are at least five days away from the rendezvous coordinates. Starfleet has Columbia's last known position as fifteen light years from there. Best case scenario is that we're going to be sitting around twiddling our thumbs for the next fifteen days!"

There was dead silence in the room after his little tirade. Trip didn't feel guilty about it, even though he could still hear T'Pol's protests in his head. _You're not going to win this round, so you might as well stop trying, _Trip told her through the bond. He watched Solon walk in his direction and hand a hypospray to him. "What's this?" Tucker asked as he took it from the man.

"It's a supplement to improve your stamina and make your erections last longer," Solon replied matter-o-factly.

The statement nearly knocked Tucker off his feet. He felt his face flush with embarrassment. He stepped back and looked around sickbay to make sure that no one else was in the room. "I ah…..thanks, Solon, but ah…" he stammered sheepishly. He chuckled and tried to hand the hypo back to the man. "I don't think I need that."

"While I'm sure you're convinced that you don't, you've never been with a Vulcan in the throws of Pon Farr, Captain," Solon replied solemnly, pushing Tucker's hand away. "Take it from my experience," he added and left it there.

Tucker palmed the hypospray and slid it in his uniform pocket. He arched his brow at T'Pol and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think I need it, but thanks," he muttered. _Do I need that? _He asked her mentally as he helped her get off the biobed.

_You might, _she answered slowly. _Better safe than sorry, _she added glancing back at him.

His eyes widen as she answered and he chuckled at her expression mainly out of fear of what was going to happen once they got back to his stateroom. "I guess I need to tell Rybaiski and Catch I'll be out of commission for a couple of days," he said pausing at the side of the biobed.

"It's my experience that Shane, Commander McCann, is extremely discrete." Solon inclined his head to reference his relationship with the ship's doctor and Shane's brother, Zack.

"I would agree," T'Pol commented. "Commander Rybaiski has a tendency to make his personal life headline news in the mess hall," she said frankly. "Commander McCann is more mature in that respect and able to handle sensitive information in the appropriate manner."

"Okay," Tucker replied slowly trying to figure out what his excuse was going to be for turning command of the ship over. Both T'Pol and Solon were right about Stu. One slip of his loose lips and the whole ship would be questioning Tucker's command abilities.

"We will need a good cover story," T'Pol stated as if she was reading him mind.

"Ahhh, well, since I thought you caught a bug at the outpost, why don't we just use that?" Tucker said glancing from T'Pol to Solon.

"I could rig the scanner readings," Solon replied.

"There were other crew on the away team," T'Pol argued. "How will you explain that you and I have fallen ill and the others did not?"

"Perhaps they all should be scanned," Solon contributed. "They may be ill and just not know it."

"I like the way you think Solon," Trip replied smiling at the man's odd sense of humor. "I just have one other question," Trip mumbled thinking about his daughter Elizabeth. "What the chances that…" he paused and looked at T'Pol. "This will result in a pregnancy?"

Solon considered his answer before responding. "Provided you aren't using any prophylactics, your chances are no different than any other couple."

"Dr. Phlox said the DNA wasn't compatible," T'Pol remarked gripping Trip's hand behind her back.

"I took the liberty of reviewing the crew's medical records before we left space dock. Dr. Phlox left detailed notes in the medical file on your daughter. The DNA was compatible, it was the method used to combine it that was flawed," Solon explained to them. "If you become pregnant from this coupling, there may be some challenges we'll need to work through, however we can cross that bridge when we come to it," he replied reassuringly.

"Is this the only time she can get pregnant?" Trip asked slowly based on the tone of Solon's comment. He trailed his gaze between T'Pol and Solon.

"Yes," T'Pol answered quickly.

"No," Solon remarked at the same time as T'Pol. "That is a common _myth_ among Vulcans Commander," he said carefully choosing his words. "Conception can occur at any time. Case and point, my brother and I were born only two and a half years apart." He noted the relieved look on Captain Tucker's face. "That should lessen your performance anxiety," he added.

Tucker coughed as his face flushed with embarrassment for the second time in ten minutes. He let the comment drop and instead focused on working out the details of the 'excuse'. When the plan was set T'Pol left the room and headed to her quarters to prepare for the next few days while Trip summoned Commander McCann to sickbay.

Trip paced across the room while waiting for McCann to report. He sighed heavily. "I feel like I'm going on my first date," he said to Solon. "I'm all jittery and my stomach is doing flip flops." He held his hands in front of him and watched them tremble uncontrollably then shook them nervously. Tucker was about to comment further when Ensign Kendric and Commander McCann came through the doors. Trip motioned for the Commander to join him and Solon into the doctor's office. Once the door closed, Trip got right to the point. He sighed heavily and ran his hand across his brow before he explained himself. "Something has come up and ah you'll be in charge of the ship for the next couple of days," he said glancing at Solon as he spoke.

The news caught McCann by surprise. _Our mission profile changed and the Captain's leaving the ship?_ he thought as he processed Tucker's comment. _And he's leaving me in charge instead of Rybaiski? _"Any particular reason sir?" he asked Tucker.

Trip hesitated before answered. "It's personal," he replied slowly.

Catch was silent for a moment and varied his gaze slowly from Tucker to Solon to the floor. Shane understood a few things about mixed relationship, especially ones involving Vulcans. He knew the only _personal _thing that would keep the Captain from his duties for a couple of days would be the Vulcan mating cycle.

"What am I to respond when the crew asks about Commander T'Pol and your whereabouts?" Catch finally asked revealing his understanding of Tucker's predicament.

"The ruse will be the Captain and Commander T'Pol picked up an infectious virus strain during our stop at the outpost yesterday," answered Solon. "The bio scanners apparently missed it during their decon session. They will be quarantined as well as anyone else who was on the away team."

Tucker picked up a PADD sitting on the desk and rattled off a list of names. "Colonel Lynch, Commander Rybaiski, Ensign Sullivan, Ensign Mavuk, Crewman Tori, Crewman Hailee, and Sgt. Montag, will all need to report to sick bay for Solon to _treat _their symptoms and put them on lockdown," Tucker said handing the PADD to McCann. "They will remain in quarters for the next couple of days."

"Roughly forty eight hours," Solon clarified.

Catch handled the PADD and reviewed the list on his own, making mental notes on how he needed to adjust staffing for the _quarantined_ crewmen. "Understood," Catch replied trying to think if there was anything else he needed to know before the Captain was 'unavailable'. "Communications from Starfleet?"

"I trust you to handle it," Tucker answered. "Unless it's Admiral Ford, then route it to my quarters. I'll check in with you periodically, but it might be a good idea to keep a communicator with you. Dempsey and his team are working on the warp issue. At present speed, we're five days away from the Benzar system. Columbia's last known position was fifteen light years from there. So we're two weeks away from being able to do anything about ...the rendezvous." He unzipped his utility pocket and handed McCann the PADD that T'Pol had given him at lunch. "This is the data Admiral Ford transmitted this morning regarding Columbia. T'Pol made some notes. Have Hoshi look it over and see if she can find anything anomalous."

"Aye, sir," McCann said nodding his head. He snapped his fingers as something came to mind. "What about meals?"

"Agghh," Tucker growled and looked at Solon. "I didn't think about that. You know what? We'll be in the Admiral's quarters. It's equipped with its own protein re-sequencer. That should suffice for a couple of days." Trip hesitated a moment before continuing. "Commander I'd appreciate it…"

"Captain, there's no need," he assured him quickly. "I understand a little about Vulcan relationships. As you said, it's a personal matter and it's none of my business, or anyone else's. I'll let you know immediately if I need you."

"Thank you," Tucker sighed and nodded his head. "Solon, is there any way you can give Rybaiski some sleeping pills or something so he isn't jamming up my comm line when we lock him down?"

The comment garnered the trademark brow arch from Solon. "Trust me Captain, I'll see to it that everyone is adequately medicated," he glanced at Catch and then Tucker. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some scanner readings to rig,"

00-00

Commander McCann stepped out of the turbolift on deck three heading for sickbay at his brother's request. He came around the corner and ran right into Lieutenant Colonel Lynch, who was holding a surgical mask to her face.

"Excuse me, Commander," she muttered looking up at him.

"Where are you off to, Colonel?" he asked her.

"Aghh, I caught some virus yesterday at the outpost," she mumbled under the cloth shield. "The whole away team is on lock-down."

McCann looked around the corridor to see if anyone was coming. "No, I meant are you going to your quarters?"

"Yes," Birdie replied firmly. "The doc said we had too. He's coming around later to administer more medication."

"Go to my quarters," he said with a sly grin.

"Shane!" she whispered tersely. "I can't. I'm infectious."

"No you're not," he whispered quietly not realizing she was still talking.

"…the doctor asked if I had been with anyone yesterday and I told him no," Birdie continued.

"Hey!" he said grabbing her arm. "Are you listening to me? You're not infectious," he said looking down at her and then around the corridor again.

"What?"

"Come here," he said pulling her down the corridor and into an empty room. "You aren't infectious," he repeated once the door closed.

"How do you know?"

"Remember when Zack told us about that Vulcan mating thing he and Solon went through for four days, when he thought his dick was going to fall off?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, Commander T'Pol is going through hers right now," he said giving her that look that explained everything wordlessly.

"Are you serious?" Birdie growled dropping the mask from her face. "I'm on quarantine for two days because the Captain's girlfriend needs to get her freak on with him?"

"That's the only way we could explain his being "unavailable" to Starfleet," Shane remarked defensively. "Remember our mission profile changed this morning."

"Oh right, our bogus mission," Lynch replied rolling her eyes.

"Come on, you know how Starfleet operates," he said defending Tucker. "I'm sure the Captain is under orders to not read us in until we make contact."

"Which is now screwed up because there is no ship to make contact with," Birdie concluded.

"Which is why it is important for you to be on lock-down in my quarters," he said drawing her close to him. "That way I can give you a private read in," he smiled and brushed his lips gently against her. He kissed her deeply for several minutes before pulling back. "Okay?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it's hard to resist," she replied touching his face.

"You've never been able to resist me," he replied smugly.

"Oh please," Birdie replied shaking her head and leaving Catch alone in the darkened room.

00-00

"Doc, you're kidding me right?" Rybaiski whined as he sat on the bio-bed. He waved his arms around in the air trying to emphasize his point. "I _need_ to be in engineering right now, not in bed. We have this huge problem with the engine and the Captain ordered me to fix it this morning. And the only way I can fix it is to be in engineering looking over the schematics and running simulations. I _can not _do that from my room."

Zack McCann stood in front of CDR Rybaiski as he made his plea and said nothing. He pretended to be completely immersed in the readout from the scan he had just taken, even though the screen showed nothing wrong with the Chief Engineer. To play off the ruse, he and Solon had donned surgical face masks and latex gloves in order to _protect _themselves from the seven members of the away team. Six had accepted their health report at face value, four were actually convinced they were having symptoms. All reported to their quarters without incident. Solon was finishing up with Ensign Sullivan at the next bio-bed while Zack was left to deal with Rybaiski. He anticipated Stu would be the one to give him a hard time and asked his brother to be present during his diagnosis.

Zack pulled a stylus out of his pocket and manipulated some of the data on the tricorder. Once it reflected how sick Rybaiski really was he turned the device around and waved it in front of Rybaiski's face.

"Do you see this Commander?" he said a little too enthusiastically. "You're infected with a Rigilean parasitical viral strain which is highly contagious. Until I can synthesize an antidote you need to be locked down in your quarters."

"But doc, come on," Stu started up again just as the doors to sick bay whooshed open and Commander Shane McCann strode through. "Catch, will you tell him that I need to be in engineering?" he called out trying to ally himself with his co-first officer.

Catch stopped at the work bar to pick up a surgical mask and held it to his face. "What's the problem?" he asked stepping over to the bio-bed where Rybaiski was sitting.

"The problem is your brother is trying to restrict me to quarters for some ridiculous reason when I truly need to be working on the warp engines," Stu growled praying that Catch would be on his side.

Catch tilted his head and a perplexed expression in his eyes. "I'm sorry … I thought you were on the away mission yesterday?" Catch said playing it as cool as could possible.

"I was. Remember you and I were joking with the captain when we were getting on the shuttle pod?" Stu replied flatly.

"Oh, that's right," Catch said nodding his head. He trailed his gaze from Stu to his brother before responding. "Well, there you go," he said with a hidden smirk on his face.

"There I go what?" Stu looked at him completely confused.

"Everyone on the away mission was infected by the virus. The quarantine is for your protection as well as the rest of the ship." Catch paused for a second and pointed at his chest. "I certainly can't get sick because someone has to pilot the boat."

"We got back from the away mission over eighteen hours ago, who's to say that I haven't infected the ship already?" Rybaiski argued. "I went through decon like everyone else, why didn't the bio-filters neutralize it?"

"The virus is a mutated strain which lies dormant for eight to twelve hours before manifesting itself," Zack replied filling the air with nonsense. He walked over to fill a hypospray with the _medicine_ Rybaiski needed, which was nothing more than a tranquilizer. "We didn't realize that it wasn't neutralized in decon until Commander T'Pol fainted this morning in Engineering."

Rybaiski nodded his head, deep in thought as he remembered the incident with T'Pol. "That's why she passed out?" he mumbled thinking aloud. "She said she was hot."

"Hot flashes are one of the first symptoms," Zack said shrugging his shoulders. He stepped back over to the bed. "I need to ask you a few standard questions regarding your activities since returning from the mission. Did you work out in the gym either last night or this morning?"

"No."

"Did you share a meal with another crew member, specifically use another person's fork or spoon before or after they had or drank from the same cup or glass as them?"

"That's disgusting."

"I'll take that as a no," he replied. Did you engage in any intimate contact with anyone since returning to the ship?"

Rybaiski refrained from answering which caused the McCann brothers to look at each other and then back to Rybaiski. "Commander?" Zack prompted waiting for his answer.

"Why does that matter?" Rybaiski asked looking at the doctor.

"It appears the virus is transferred through bodily fluids," Solon said butting in from the next bio-bed.

"Huh?" Rybaiski grumbled craning his neck to look back at Solon. "I didn't have any bodily fluid transfers yesterday … so it's impossible for me to have this virus!"

"Did you put your hand down on any surfaces, open any doors or gates or lean against any walls or counters?" Solon questioned him as Ensign Sullivan jumped off the bio-bed and left sickbay with a surgical mask covering his face.

"Maybe."

"Even if the surface was dry, there is still an opportunity of fluid transfer," Zack replied flatly. He looked at Rybaiski and impatiently tapped the stylus on the PADD waiting for Stu's answer on the one remaining question, not that he actually needed it. The answer was clear as day based on the way Rybaiski was acting. However, in order for the ruse to be executed properly McCann had to make a big deal about it. "Commander?" he prompted again.

"What?" Stu replied trying to act coy.

"Commander, did you or did you not have any intimate contact with a member of the crew since returning from the away mission?" Zack repeated.

Stu squirmed in his seat. "I plea the fifth," he finally mumbled.

"Commander!" Catch said rather sternly. He was over Rybaiski's song and dance. He had better things to do at this moment and dinking around with this "flu charade" wasn't one of them. "The doctor asked you a question. You are jeopardizing a member of this crew's health by withholding the name. Is that worth a court martial?"

"She's already on lock down," Rybaiski replied tersely. "Let's just leave it at that."

For the first time all afternoon Zack was thankful he was wearing the surgical mask and that it hid his facial reactions. He had been able to play off the "flu" drama with everyone else, but Rybaiski's response was classic and Shane? _Court martial? _he thought laughing inside. It took every ounce of effort to not start laughing in Rybaiski's face. Zack glanced sideways at his brother and was sure he could see steam coming out of his ears. He administered the hypo on Rybaiski's neck. He handed Stu a surgical mask and cleared his throat to try to rid it of the giggles before he spoke. "To your room Mr. Rybaiski," he said quickly trying to shoo him out of sickbay before Catch could cold-cock him.

"I can't just wear this mask down to engineering?" Rybaiski tried one more time avoiding the Commander's eyes.

"Don't make me call security," Zack replied frankly. The commander snatched the surgical mask out of his hand, reluctantly jumped off the bio-bed, and left sickbay.

As soon as the door shut, Solon walked up behind Shane and arched his brow quizzically. "Court martial? A little over then top don't you think?"

"Can you threaten him with that? He outranks you," Zack mumbled as he tore his mask off and burst into laughter. When he realized Shane wasn't laughing he cleared his throat. "You're not laughing," he commented.

"That guy's an ass!" Shane grumbled. "He's sleeping with Montag you know!"

"I think you're over reacting," Zack muttered, still chuckling about the whole situation.

"I'm not over-reacting! I have no idea what our uncle saw in him," Catch grumbled. "Or the captain for that matter, the guy is an over-grown playboy."

"Your uncle chose him for his engineering abilities, not because he was a ladies man," Solon reminded him.

"That's just it, if he spent as much time working on the engines as he does trying to swoon the ladies we wouldn't have a high warp problem right now," Shane retorted pacing around the room in frustration.

"Wow, did you sneak in a few engineering classes at Purdue that you didn't tell anyone about?" Zack poked fun at his brother.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you aren't the engineering expert. The way Rybaiski handles his personal life is far from the way he handles the engine," Zack said defensively.

"The problem with the warp field has nothing to do with his inattentiveness to it," Solon added. "In case you hadn't noticed, the man rarely leaves the engineering deck."

"That's because Montag's quarter's are down there!" Catch retorted looking waving his arm around in frustration. "I don't need you too ganging up on me."

"We're hardly _ganging_ up on you Shane," Solon said. "That display of insubordination is part of Mr. Rybaiski's personality. And while I'm certain it _pissed you off_," he paused and trailed his gaze from Zack to Shane. "It is as you say _comic relief_. Mr. Rybaiski is extremely loyal and his first duty is to this ship and its crew. He will do nothing to jeopardize that."

Shane closed his eyes and bit his lip. "Enough of the Vulcan logic," Catch muttered pointing his finger in Solon's direction. "If I didn't know better I would think you were sweet on him."

"We were actually considering inviting him for a three-some," Solon remarked. The comment worked its magic on the commander, who shook his head in disbelief and started to chuckle.

"Funny," he muttered turning to head for the door. "Oh, when you go looking for Birdie to administer her "medication", she's in my quarters."

"What do you mean she's in your quarters?" Zack asked him wide eyed. "She's infectious."

"Whatever," Catch said. "If you want to be so black and white about this ruse, then I guess I should be on lock down too because she and I have been sleeping together for the past month."

"That's no cardinal secret," Zack retorted. When he caught the questioning glare on his brother's face, he backpedaled quickly. "Maybe you should be on lockdown."

"Who the frig is going to fly the ship then?" Catch asked him.

"Commander Sato, Commander Gervase, Lieutenant Dempsey, Lieutenant Ganzer," Zack started rattling off names.

Catch exhaled loudly and pinched his nose with his fingers. "Then everyone would know that she and I are back together, which is exactly what I don't want," he said tersely. "So deal with it," he said turning on his heel and leaving the room.

00-00

_Performance anxiety, _the words rolled through Trip's head as he stood under the spray from the shower. He had stepped into the shower to help clear his mind before … before T'Pol attacked him. _I really feel like I'm on my first date, which is completely stupid, _he thought mulling it over. Back on Enterprise there were many times he and T'Pol had gotten together just for sex. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, what was about to happen in this room was different. And it scared the hell out of him.

He stepped out of the shower and toweled himself off. Standing in front of the mirror, he picked up the hypospray and held it in his hand. _Here's goes nothing, _he thought as he stabbed it against his neck. He brushed his teeth quickly and then walked naked out of the bathroom to the king-sized bed in the admiral's quarters. _T'Pol should be here any minute, _he thought as he crawled beneath the comforter.

Trip reflected over their relationship since they left the Starbase. They had been intimate every night. Trip closed his eyes remembering how it felt to be next to her. His daydreams … the white space… whatever she called it, were okay, but nothing could replace the sensation of finding her body wrapped completely around his. Sure, he could have an orgasm while in the white space ... or just as easily jerking off in the shower, but being inside her was like heaven.

"Trip?"

He heard T'Pol purr his name and he opened his eyes to look at her. "Hey, when did you come in?" he whispered.

"Just a minute ago," she said removing her robe and curling her naked body around him. "I need to talk to you about something. It's important," she added.

"Okay," he answered her slowly. "What is it?" He could feel the heat of her skin against him and felt himself harden. The urge to be inside her was overwhelming him. It took all his might to focus on her words.

She was hesitant to respond and when she finally did, she refused to look him in the eye. "While we are bonded, you will discover some things about me that I haven't told you," she whispered.

He thought about her words and ran his finger down the side of her cheek. "If you're worried about it, don't be," he said pulling her face to his. He ran his hands down the length of her body and settled one hand between her legs by her mound. He stroked the delicate folds of her skin with his fingers. "I'm not going to judge you. Whatever happened in the past is the past. You can't change it. Besides, I'm sure you'll find out some things about me too." He smiled as he watched the pleasure ripple over her face.

Trip hooked his arm around her waist and rolled over, pulling her on top of him. He couldn't wait any longer and she was ready for him. Their eyes locked on each other. He positioned himself inside her and rammed his hips against her firmly. He felt T'Pol arch her back and move in rhythm with him as he ground his way inside. He melted into the hot molten lava that lined the walls of her inner self and felt like he was losing himself to her. _Not yet, _he whispered to himself as he tried to refocus on her body and not her eyes.

Trip pushed himself up on his elbows and nibble at her breast, laughing as she gritted her teeth and moaned loudly. He pulled her toward him and took the whole breast in his mouth, sucking on the nipple, gently biting the tip as he slid his hand to the small of her back and pushed her down against his energy. Tucker tilted his head back and watched T'Pol's facial expressions as he tweaked her nipples with his thumbs.

T'Pol rolled her head across her shoulders and looked down at her mate with an innocent stare. He was chuckling at her response to him. _He's laughing now, he won't be laughing when I'm done with him, _she growled intently. She leaned over to trail tiny kisses down the side of his neck and across his chest. She felt herself open to him as she rode him and the fire within her ignited. "Last chance to change your mind," she whispered in his ear as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"You want me to stop?" he asked wrapping his arms around her and rolling his mate over on her back. He pushed her legs to her chest and began to thrust against her more deeply.

T'Pol whimpered under him and arched her neck in response to the pressure he was exerting inside of her core. He slowed his movement as he felt to himself land on the key to her soul and swiveled his hips in deliberate movements that he knew drove her crazy. She snaked her arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to her body, capturing his lips on hers in the process.

_Are you ready Th'y'la? _she asked as their bodies moved in harmony.

_I was born ready, darling, _he replied to her as he probed her mouth with his tongue and drove himself deeper inside. He felt T'Pol brush her hand against the side of his face and put pressure on his cheekbone. She had done this hundreds of time in the white space and while it had made their daydream more intense, that was all a dream. _Wasn't it, _he thought as he felt himself slipping away. He had never been that guy that forgot what happened or fell asleep during sex, but suddenly he felt detached from his body and the sensations that were rattling through it. As T'Pol reached her climax and began to shudder against his erection, he was drawn into her soul. He felt her orgasm like it was his own. _Oh, baby, _he muttered to himself.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

_Survive, evade, resist, and escape_. The words haunted Ensign Kelly Morgan day and night like a broken record that would not shut off. It was day eleven and she was still alive so she had passed the first test in SERE school. _Evade? I've evaded death by not resisting, _she mulled over in her head. _I have no means of escape… yet, _she thought as she rolled over on the cot and stared through the bars of her cell.

She looked over at the empty bunk next to her. _She should be back soon….I think, _she wondered, still not trusting if either of them would ever return to their cell. She managed four extra days of life because she challenged the guard instead of begging for her life. Four days of food because of a deal she and her cellmate had brokered with him. Had she sold herself out to the devil? What would her instructor from the academy think of her now?

It all happened on day eight when the guard came for her. She heard the shuffle of his feet and the rattle of the keys from down the hallway. Kelly had pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed and made a decision that would affect the rest of her life, right then and there_._ She chuckled now as she looked back on it, _pretty bold for me, considering I'm not that kind of person. Well, at least I wasn't that kind of person before I signed onto Starfleet. _

The guard had walked right for her once he entered the cell. He reminded the ensign of the leopard gecko she had as a child, same striped scaly skin, and same lizard like skull shape. The only difference was the guard was a biped and tailless. "You," he said pointing at the door. Kelly scooted to the end of the cot and stared him right in the eye.

"I want food," she replied flatly staring up at him. The guard said nothing. He just stared at her as if he didn't know what to do.

"You're not in a position to make demands," he finally muttered looming above her.

"Why? What do I have to lose?" Kelly countered. "You're going to kill me anyway, so why not let me enjoy my last few minutes of life?"

"What's it worth to you?" he asked with hesitation.

"The real question should be what's it worth to you?" the female from the other bunk spoke up. Now there were both ganging up on him

The guard stood in silence and trailed his gaze from Kelly to the other female for a long time before answering.

"You will pleasure me," he said finally pointing to both of them.

His words hung in the air and pierced through Kelly like a spike. The thought of having sex with him just for a meal wasn't the most appealing compromise. Nevertheless, she couldn't back out now, if she was willing to bring it she had to be willing to sling it. She swallowed hard and stared up at him. "Fine, but I don't know how it works with your species," she said evenly suddenly scared to death over the mess she was in.

"I will show you," he said. He began to unbutton his uniform when the other female spoke up.

"We need a shower first," she said quickly.

"A shower? What do you think this is? First you want food and now you want a shower?" he remarked staring at them. "This isn't Risa."

"Like you would know?" she snarled at him. "You want us to pleasure you? We're scanky. We haven't been able to clean ourselves in eight days. We've been using a hole for a latrine!"

"Wouldn't you rather be with females that were all fresh and clean?" Kelly piped in to make their point.

The guard slumped as he thought about what they asked. Finally, after several minutes he exhaled loudly and waved his hand toward the door. "Come with me," he said to them. He motioned for them to follow him. Kelly and the other female, Ichara as she would come to know her, left their cell and headed toward their unknown fate.

The shower area reminded Kelly of the enlisted crew head on the ship, an open tile room with shower heads coming out of the wall, the only difference was there were no curtains or dividers. The guard led them into the area and stood fast with his gun trailed on their bodies. "Undress," he said pulling down a door on the wall. He pointed at his uniform and the hole in the wall.

_Guess we put our clothes in there? _Kelly surmised wondering if she would go back to the cell naked. _Or is he just going to kill us when he's done? _Kelly and the woman exchanged glances and Kelly got the impression that it wasn't anything new for her cellmate. She sized the female up for the first time in days, noticing tattoos on her forearms that appeared to be symbols and numbers. She had a huge scar on her forehead that looked like an old-fashioned cattle brand. She wore a shell shaped clip on her ear and had a metal band on her upper bicep. Ichara was humanoid, tall and slim with dark skin and white hair. Her hands and feet were webbed, but other than that, her anatomy seemed to be much the same as humans.

"Undress!" the guard said again with more urgency this time.

Kelly bit her lip and struggled out of her uniform jacket. She felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Ichara leaning close to her ear.

"Give him a show," she whispered. "That might be all it takes."

Kelly watched Ichara as she confidently removed what little clothing she had and stuffed them into the hole. She strutted toward the shower and stood under the water as she adjusted it from cold to hot. Kelly glanced back at the guard and noticed his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. _Hmmp, maybe she's right, _Kelly thought as she started to remove the rest of her uniform in the most provocative way possible.

Once in the shower with Ichara, Kelly lingered under the hot water painstakingly taking her sweet time lathering up with soap and giving the guard a full view of everything she did. She was uncomfortable at first, but after noticing the guard's reaction, she relaxed. She even began to play with her cellmate and didn't even flinch when Ichara came up behind her and rubbed soap over her back. They frolicked in the water openly touching each other when they noticed the guard's face turn purple and he struggle with his pants. As he turned toward the wall and made grunting noises into his sleeve, Kelly and Ichara laughed quietly behind him.

After their shower, the guard handed them fresh clothes, drawstring pants, blouse, hooded robes and slippers, and led them to the dining hall. It was the first time in days Kelly had seen anyone from Columbia. While she and Ichara filled their plates with food, Kelly looked around the room and caught the attention of Lieutenant Mahoney, Crewman Lake and Richert. She obediently ate her meal while the guard stood watch, holding his gun in their faces. Kelly even worked up the nerve to argue with him about taking food back to the cell, stalling their departure.

"You'll get more tomorrow," the guard said getting impatient with her. "Too much food will make you sick. You're no good to me then."

"How do I know you'll actually bring me back tomorrow?" Kelly challenged him.

"Because I said," he implored. "You need to finish what you started. Now get up!" he motioned for them to stand and leave the room. The guard glared at the Columbia crewmen. "No talking to them," he said gruffly blocking their access.

And he was true to his word, everyday since then the guard took them to the dining hall and let them shower. He even moved them from the large holding cell to a smaller one that was cleaner and actually had a high-tech toilet and sink it in. All carried the small price tag of pleasuring him. Kelly chuckled at the thought of it all. A little show here and there or let him cop a feel or two … nothing different than a lap dance at Guys and Dolls, across the alley from the 602 Club. _I evaded death by giving lap dances to the guard. Maybe this will be my new career when I get home, _she thought quietly. _If I get home. _For now, it was keeping her alive.

00-00

"Have you seen Kelly today?" Lieutenant Trey Burrows asked the table of his crew as he sat down in the dining hall. He leaned over his tray and played with his food.

"No," Mahoney replied in between bites. "The guard just brought the other one to the mess hall."

Burrows ran his hand over his face. _That was not a good sign, _he thought trying to figure out why. For the past four days, he had brought them here together. "She hasn't been in here at all?"

"Nope," Lake remarked. "I didn't see her at breakfast."

"The other took food back to her cell," Mahoney added. "I slipped her the note."

"He didn't see?" Burrows asked talking about the girls guard.

"I distracted him," Lake said quietly.

Burrows exhaled slowly. He was suspicious of what Ensign Morgan was doing and he understood why she thought it was necessary, but he didn't like it. Maybe he'd feel different about it if he and Kelly were just co-workers and not dating before this whole mess happened. _Dating? I'm fricken in love with her! _he chided himself. He should just be thankful that she was alive, but the thought of another man touching her was driving him insane. Considering his circumstances he didn't have a right to talk, he _was _sleeping with others, male and female, several in fact….but he had to do that in order to survive. _That makes it different right? _he questioned himself.

The ironic thing was he hadn't given Kelly a thought in days until Mahoney and Lake saw her in the dining area. He had convinced himself that she was dead and separated his feelings for her from their situation. He even tried to make a point of not being in the dining area when she was around because just seeing her would break down his walls and drive a knife through his heart. That fact that he could compartmentalize his feelings like that always bothered Kelly and often instigated arguments between them. _Would she feel different about it now? _he wondered. _God knows I fricken feel different now and I can't do a damn thing about it. _The officer in him wanted to kick the crap out of that guard and rescue her. However, it wasn't one guard he had to fight, it was ten and they were all armed. He had learned his lesson for picking fights earlier this week, so for now he just had to make sure that someone saw her everyday.

That was more than he could say for the officers and crewmen in the dormitory area, over the course of the past four days eight men were missing or dead. Burrows watched two men die at the hands of the guards, which he suspected were for disciplinary purposes, a deterrent so to speak. They were needless deaths, arguments fueled out of the suffocating conditions they were forced to live. Afterwards Burrows ordered the rest of the men, mostly crewmen and junior officers, to lay low. Everyone seemed a little jumpy at the compound these days, including himself, especially now that he had to worry about Kelly.

"Hey," Ensign Tate said sitting down across from Burrows. "Two missing from our room this morning, Benlow and Dunkle." The ensign shook his head. "Conner saw the whole thing. They both missed the thirteenth hour. Guards were there in five minutes with their electric sticks and took them away."

"What does that leave us with?" Lake asked looking to Burrows for answers.

"I don't know," Burrows scowled pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Seven in our room, four in yours," he ticked off pointing at Tate. "Six in Smith's, Brocker and Allison in the room down the hall. What's that? Nineteen?"

"Out of how many?" Tate asked.

"The crew compliment was seventy seven when we were boarded, but we weren't all brought here. We only know the whereabouts of two females. The one Maklo and Tyreen saw in the medical bay and Ensign Morgan."

"Who is sleeping with the guard," Lake added.

"We don't know that crewman," Burrows replied sharply. "Not that you're in any position to talk."

"That is part of SERE school sir," Lake said flatly. "Survive, Evade, Resist, Escape. I was in her class with Professor Ajoy at Starfleet Academy."

Burrows pushed down the emotions that were burning in his throat like acid. "Look, all I care about right now is that she is alive and that someone sees her everyday. As of this moment, no one has seen her today, so that's a problem. A big problem."

"And as far as our escape plan goes?" Mahoney questioned quietly.

"We can't do anything until we get that note back," Burrows replied flatly.

00-00

Commander Sadek walked into the mess hall of Columbia and scanned the room. It was empty. _Dammit, _he cursed under his breath. He walked over to the drink dispenser and grabbed a cup. "Coffee, black, double sweet." When the coffee was done brewing he walked to a table by the window and sat down. He unbuttoned the neck and placket of his uniform and unzipped it. _This is just one frakked up mess, _he thought taking a sip. He stared out the window at the nebula gasses. _It will be over soon, not all over, just over. _

He heard voices and glanced back at the doorway. Chief Freddie Alvarez and Ensign Sandy Miner walked into the room from the hallway and headed into the galley. Sadek turned back to the window and sipped his coffee until the two walked over to his table and sat down.

"The package is loaded," Freddie said leaning over the table to pick up the saltshaker.

"You shouldn't be hitting that so hard Chief," Sadek commented nodding his head. "It's not good for your blood pressure."

"My blood pressure?" Alvarez laughed. "I stopped worrying about my blood pressure when you promoted me sir. Things were much calmer down on D deck when all I had to worry about was washing the crew's uniforms."

"What about you Ensign?" Sadek asked the young girl sitting next to him. _Young girl is an understatement, she can't be more than twenty one, twenty two, _he thought looking over at her. _Still has the regulations drilled in her head, _he realized. Her uniform was clean and perfectly pressed. Her brown hair was pulled off her collar in a ponytail. "Do you think your job is tough on the ship?"

"Well, being aboard ship isn't half as stressful as my days on the gymnastic team," she said with a sly grin. "You aren't half as tough as my old coach, R.E. Staynor. He was harping at me to twist this way or land my dismounts. I guess we could do worse," she said winking at the Chief.

"I don't think I would have been good at gymnastics," Sadek replied. "Too tall."

"That's why us short people have it made," Freddie smiled. "We can get through all the small places." Freddie picked up the bread on his plate and bit off the corner.

Sadek looked at Freddie and nodded his head. "Well, that's good information to know, in case I need someone to clean out the plasma vents," Sadek replied sarcastically.

Miner looked up from her bowl of soup and laughed nervously. "You're kidding right? The plasma vents are on the outside of the ship," she replied with wide eyes.

"You're EV-certified, aren't you Miner?" Sadek joked with her.

"Ah ya …. But that doesn't mean I want to go out there to clean out the vents," she remarked rolling her eyes. .

"Come on, it's fun," he replied with a smile on his face.

"Respectfully sir, no way!" she said flatly. "Unless of course you order me to sir, then I would. But I wouldn't really know what to do, so it would be useless to send me out there."

"I'll take that under advisement," Sadek said. He patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure you have some other hidden talents that could be useful in the future Ensign," he remarked. He looked back at the door and checked the time on the chronometer. "Well, I need to get back to my quarters. I'll see you later."

He stood from the table and walked out of the mess hall and back toward his quarters, passing the guard along the way. He made his way down the hall to the turbolift, with the guard tailing him. Sadek and the guard entered the lift and took it down two decks to E, where Sadek's quarters were. He lost the guard half way down the corridor and slipped into his room quietly.

_These guards are stupid, _he thought as the door slid shut. _If I was going to hold hostages on the ship, I would put them in one cargo bay so I could have my men keep an eye on them. I would carefully monitor where they went and whom they were talking too and I certainly wouldn't let them roam anywhere they pleased. And there is no way in hell I would let them have access to their comm system. _Sadek sat at his desk and drummed his fingers on the desktop.

The ten remaining crew were spread out in crew quarters on deck D & E. They could go to the gym and the mess hall freely, but anytime they changed decks they were escorted by a guard. Sadek and Miner had unlimited access to the bridge and the comm system in order to monitor comm and email traffic. Alvarez, Hitchcock and Lippert had restricted access to engineering and the other five, quite honestly, Sadek wasn't sure if any of the guards were really watching them. However, since they were in the process of rerouting the helm to engineering and damaging systems in order to retake the ship, it was one thing in their favor.

He was impressed with the team left on the ship, especially Alvarez's leadership and initiative. The ten were a mixture of officers and enlisted personnel. Before their capturers released Sadek from the brig, Alvarez had rallied the crew together in what he cleverly nicknamed "enlisted ingenuity". Freddie's quick thinking secured their use of the comm system and access to engineering. Within a couple of days, they had mapped the guard movements, knew their physical and geographic limitations and had an escape plan in the works.

Sadek went over his part of the plan in his head. Miner's reference to her gymnastic coach _**R.E**__. Staynor_ meant that she had encrypted the distress call under the **R**omeo **E**psilon protocol, which was solely designated for C: RED missions. Alvarez's statement _the package is loaded_ was the sign that it was pending for him to transmit in the morning. It also meant today was the second day their daily transmission to Admiral Cooper had been faked. Because of Sadek's previous communication with Starfleet regarding Captain Hernandez, the missing transmissions would throw up a couple dozen red flags at Starfleet Command. Phoenix would be notified that Columbia had missed the report and since Lieutenant Keller had conveniently disabled their audio feed, Columbia was unable to respond to any hails from Starfleet. That should be enough to change Phoenix's mission profile to from C: Yellow to C: RED.

_If Phoenix is traveling at warp six, then they should be only five days away from the Benzar system. I'll transmit the distress call tomorrow and they should receive it somewhere in the next twenty-four and forty-eight hours. Once they decrypt the message, they'll go to maximum warp to rendezvous with us. _

Sadek stood up from the desk and walked to the window staring at the pink and purple nebula gas surrounding the ship. He reflected on the events of the past two months and wondered again if he could have done anything different, anything that would have prevented the catastrophe from ever happening. _Sure, there's only a thousand things I could have done differently, _he chided himself. _Perhaps my blind faith in the Captain was the kill shot. If I had questioned her orders earlier, went to Starfleet earlier, or even staged my own mutiny we wouldn't be sitting in this damn nebula now with ninety percent of the crew missing! We just need to sit tight for two more days,_ he thought to himself. He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Major Davenport wouldn't have allowed it anyway," he mumbled. The head of security was the stumbling block that was always lingering in the background. The only reason Sadek was able to turn the ship around a month ago was because he had been injured in the explosion. The minute Davenport and the Captain were up and about, Sadek had been tossed in the brig. _He'll get his due someday, if he hasn't already, _Sadek thought. _Too bad we can't selectively rescue people ... if we can pull this heist off, that is. _

It wasn't going to be easy; the crew was getting a little jumpy. _Maybe they'll settle down once Freddie and Sandy bring them the weapons, _he rationalized. He sighed heavily and cursed under his breath. He leaned against the window sill. "If we truly were explorers, I'd probably think this nebula was beautiful and want to analyze it to death," he said aloud. "Right now, I just want to get the hell out of it."

00-00

_I did not sign up for this! _Freddie Alvarez thought as he pulled himself through the ventilation shaft of his room into the crawl space above. He twisted his body around the piping and began to crawl down the airshaft above E deck heading toward his former office, quartermaster. _The weapons are in storage locker c, _he planned mentally as he moved. _I need ten pistols and a handful of stun grenades. I'll give five to Miner and I'll take the rest, _he thought as he crawled to the junction just over the enlisted crew head.

He looked down through the ceiling vent and watched one of the lizard's take a leak in the head. _Frig! What is he doing over here? _Alvarez thought backpedaling through his plan. Both he and Miner's quarters were on the starboard side of the ship. Alvarez's were right next to the deflector dish while Miner had the last officer quarters starboard aft. Miner had a straight shot in the vent parallel to the turbolift corridor that led to the quartermaster and laundry area of the ship. Freddie, on the other hand, had to cross the entire saucer section, over enlisted crew quarters and past the science labs to make it to the corridor that connected to his office. Keller and the rest of the crew were in the mess hall and Sadek was in his quarters on the port side of E Deck, which should have left Miner and him a wide berth to get to the storage lockers. _It's not like I have any where better to be, _Alvarez thought as he waited, watching the lizard guy take his ole sweet time in the head. _He looks like a walking gecko! _Freddie thought as he remained still in the vent above the guard's head.

After fifteen minutes, he started to get restless and decided to back track to the junction and go another way. It took him double the time, but he finally met up with Miner thirty minutes later.

"What took you so long?" she asked when he slithered up next to her.

"Sorry, I got hung up by a lizard in the head," Alvarez said brushing the dust and dirt off his t-shirt. He went to work on removing the screws from the duct above the quartermaster office.

"They actually take showers?" Miner said shuddering at the thought of the creatures that followed them around the ship.

"I don't think he was taking a shower," Freddie replied.

Miner made a face and visually shuddered at the implications. "Chief," Miner whispered. "Don't you think the Commander has been acting odd lately?"

Freddie looked at the ensign and for the first time noticed how young she looked. _She looks like she's fifteen. No street smarts, he_ thought sizing her up. She had a worried expression on her face. "What do you mean?"

"He's been really quiet and … and he hardly helped us with the escape plan," she said biting her lip.

"Well, it's probably better that he didn't help us with the plan. If the lizards become suspicious and start questioning him about it he can't give the details away," Freddie explained to her as he loosened the grate and set the screwdriver down. "As for how he's acting … put yourself in his shoes ensign, you're second in command and let all this crap happen to the ship and crew? How would you feel?"

She pursed her lips. "Like shit," she finally muttered.

"Well, there you go," Freddie replied. "Let's get on with this," he said inclining his head at the hole.

They made short work of retrieving the weapons and stun grenades and climbed back into the air duct. Within two hours, they had distributed the weapons to the eight remaining crew on board Columbia and made it back to their respective quarters.

Freddie threw his t-shirt in his hamper and lay down on his bunk. He toyed with the phase pistol and stared at the cool metal gun in his hand. "Now if the Commander can come through for us tomorrow, escape is just two days away."

00-00

"Kelly!" Ichara's voice was loud in Ensign Morgan's ear as her bunkmate shook her awake. Kelly opened her eyes and blinked several times.

"Hey," she replied rubbing her eyes. "How long …," she muttered looked down as Ichara handed her some food from the dining area. "Where's?"

"Shhh," Ichara put her finger against her lip. "There's new …. in the next cell." Ichara pointed at the door and across the hall. "I saw another of your kind when Shavu was walking me back. He went to get her," Ichara whispered. "The blonde boy in the dining hall gave me this for you," she said handing Kelly the note.

Kelly could feel a headache coming on from information overload. She unfolded the note. _Burrows working on plan. Will need guards help. _Kelly refolded the note and stuffed it in her pocket. _That's a good question, _she thought. _I barely even trust the guy and they want to know if he'll help us? _"What happened?" Kelly asked Ichara eating a piece of fruit.

Ichara crawled onto the bunk next to her. "He had me dance for another guard. His name is Avu. He's cute," she said brushing through Kelly's hair with her hand. "He wants you to dance for him tomorrow."

_Okay, this is getting out of hand, _Kelly thought to her herself. _Shavu was one thing, now I have to do it for someone else? _"Why?" she whispered to Ichara.

"Because he can help us escape," the woman replied flatly. "He has access that Shavu doesn't have."

Kelly sighed, pulled the note from her pocket, and handed it to Ichara. She watched her unfold it slowly. "The guys have a plan, but I need to talk to them first. Do you think Shavu would bring one of them to us?"

"Can't hurt to ask," Ichara replied. "I'm sure you can convince him," she said starting to laugh. Kelly looked at her for a minute and then joined in. _Professional lap dancer here I come. _

_tbc_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

LCDR Hoshi Sato walked slowly up the service corridor on the starboard side of the bridge. She reviewed data on her PADD that she had just downloaded from the Command Center at the bottom of the service corridor on the half deck. She scanned the room when she entered the bridge. The newly organized Delta shift was on duty, Tori and McCabe were monitoring the engineering and science stations. Lieutenant j.g. Roberts was sitting at tactical. Lieutenant Ganzer was at the helm and Commander McCann sat quietly in the Captain's chair.

Hoshi smirked as her eyes settled on McCann. Two hours ago while Engineering was running a high warp test, the ship dropped out of warp quite unexpectedly. The sudden velocity drop rumbled through the ship and rattled unsuspecting crew members, including the acting first officer. Commander McCann had just exited the turbolift and was walking to the command chair when the drop occurred. The sudden stop catapulted McCann over the railing in front of the tactical station and landed him face first on the floor between the command chairs and the engineering station. The injury was nothing to laugh at, but that hardly stopped Delta shift.

"Commander," Hoshi said as she walked behind the engineering and science stations over to her post. "Does your hand still hurt?" It took all her will not to start giggling about it again.

"Of course," he replied flippantly. He grimaced as he flexed his fingers and watched her cross the deck without moving his head.

"I brought you an ice pack," she said handing it to him as she passed by the chair. "You still should have it checked out in sick bay," she added coughing as laugher began to riddle her voice.

"There's no way I'm going to sick bay," he growled under his breath. "I don't need my brother doting over me like a mother hen."

"You know," Lt. Ganzer said spinning around at the helm. "You gotta admit, it _was_ kinda funny…I would love to see the security video of that. You couldn't choreograph a fall that perfect." He smiled widely and looked around the room.

"It wasn't funny," McCann said flatly holding the ice pack on his wrist. "My nose is throbbing."

"Like right here," Ganzer asked rubbing his finger across the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah," McCann replied flinching as he ran his finger over it.

"It's probably broken," Roberts chipped in from the engineering station. "At least let me scan it," He reached under his console and pulled out the med kit. He retrieved the medical tricorder and walked around his console to scan the Commander's nose.

"You know how to work that thing?" McCann said pulling back from the lieutenant and eyeing him cautiously. He waved his hand. "No forget it. It's nothing."

"Well, yeah, if you don't care that your nose heals crooked," Ganzer replied. He watched Roberts hold his hands back in a short surrender. Then he leaned in to run the scanner over the commander's nose. "What's the word?" Ganzer asked when Robert stopped scanning and stared wordlessly at the screen.

"It's not broken," Roberts replied shrugging his shoulders. He ran the scanner over McCann's arm as well. "Your wrist is sprained though. Better keep ice on both," he said walking back to his station. He pulled out another ice pack and tossed it to McCann.

McCann fumbled with the two packs. "How am I going to do this?" he grumbled.

"We could duct tape it to your head," Hoshi suggested as she burst out laughing. She covered her face with her hand and coughed a few times. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

McCann swiveled in his seat and tossed one of the ice packs in her direction. "You know Commander, I was reviewing your record the other day and I noticed that you aren't helm rated," he said watching her lean over to pick the ice pack off the floor.

"So?" she replied sitting up. She still had the giggles. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, if you're going to have bridge watch, it would be a good idea to be able to fly the ship… in case of an emergency," he remarked.

"I've had bridge watch for years … all the way back to when I served on Enterprise and I've never needed to fly the ship," she countered defensively.

"What would you do if something weird happened to the rest of the bridge crew and you were the only left up here?" Ganzer asked her from the Helm.

Hoshi pursed her lips and looked around the room. All eyes were on her. "Call for help," she replied and then burst out laughing again.

"While the ship spins out of control?" McCann asked her chuckling.

"Space is big," Hoshi replied, still laughing. "It's not like we're going to run into anything."

"Why don't you give it a try?" McCann said motioning to the helm.

"Excuse me?" Hoshi said.

"Try it out," McCann repeated, this time pointing at the helm with his thumb. "Jonah loves to teach new people how to fly."

Hoshi opened her mouth in surprise and looked around the room. "We're at warp Commander," she muttered. "Warp six if I'm not mistaken."

"No better time to learn," Ganzer replied throwing his hands up in the air. "It's just like flying the shuttle."

"No, it's not just like flying the shuttle," Hoshi replied nervously. "The shuttle only goes one quarter impulse."

"We'll slow down a little," McCann said trying to talk her into it. "An hour won't make or break us. Come on," he said standing up and walking over to her station. "I promise no one will laugh at you… in fact, if you do it for an hour, I'll allow you all watch the security video of my infamous dive." He patted his hand on her shoulder in a reassuring way.

"Oh, now you have to do it," Ganzer said setting the console up for her. "Cuz I've gotta see the swan dive."

"You can do it Commander," Tori added from the science station. "It's not like we're going to let you drown. At least you get to do it when everything is okay with the ship. I had the crash course when we were flying upside down and out of control."

Hoshi bit her lip and stood up from her console. She could hear Ganzer on the comm informing Engineering they were about to slow down. She felt McCann's hand on her shoulder as he walked with her to the helm station. Hoshi sucked in some air and sat down at the control. Within ten minutes she ran her hand across her brow and sighed inwardly. _I feel an information overload headache coming on, _she muttered to herself.

00-00

His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at the ceiling. He stared blankly at the conduits overhead and tightened his forehead muscles as he felt a tinge of a headache coming on. He took several slow breaths and focused on the pain trying to calm his body, a technique she had taught him years ago. It didn't work. _Frick, _he cursed as he rolled over to look at her. His eyes wandered down the length of her body. She was asleep, finally for the first time in hours. _God she's beautiful. How'd I ever get so lucky to have her? _he wondered crawling quietly out of the bed.

Trip walked naked into the head of the Admiral's suite and turned the shower on. He stepped under the hot spray and leaned his head against the wall. _How did I get lucky enough to end up with her? _he repeated in his mind, careful to block his thoughts from his mate. _She had a thing for the Cap'n! They even talked about a potential relationship … about mixing DNA…Geezuskrice, I never even saw it. Why the hell didn't he say something? I would have backed off, wouldn't I? Maybe not. I've cared about her since that first year on Enterprise. We fought all the time, but I enjoyed it. I can even say that I looked forward to arguing with her, antagonized her on purpose. Maybe that's why he let her go. Jon always could read me pretty well. Maybe he could see there was something more for us. _

_On the other hand, maybe it was something with her … maybe something happened to her emotions when the Suliban interrogated her with that damn electric collar, she did start spend more time around me after that. All those late night conversations in the mess hall, she never was very good at hiding her feelings around me. Those same damn emotions that she wanted to access when she got hooked on trellium-d. Maybe her mom told her that I was in love with her … god knows T'Les saw right through me. _

_Or maybe it was me. Maybe I wore her down, got up under her skin too much. Hell, even Sim ratted me out to her. _Trip stood upright and shook his head. _I promised her that I wouldn't let this affect us, _he thought turning around under the water and beginning to wash himself. _It's not like she didn't find some things out about me that I never told her. Like how I've kept in contact with Kaitaama, the First Monarch of Kreso Prime all this time or my relationship with Nessa Trant or that I talked to the other T'Pol about her when we were in the expanse. _"Frick, my secrets aren't crap compared to hers," he mumbled to himself as he rinsed the soap off his body.

Trip stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel hanging on the rack. He dried himself off quickly and wrapped it around his waist. He picked up the hypospray from the top of the vanity. "Solon wasn't joking when he said I needed this," he mumbled. He pulled the ampoule out of the bottom and checked to see how much was left. "Looks like one more shot," he arched his eyebrows. "I hope that's enough to satisfy my lil heater."

Ten minutes later, after Tucker had shaved and brushed his teeth, he emerged from the head with fresh pajama pants on. He walked over to the bed to check on his mate. She was still asleep. He ran his hand over her forehead and neck and noted her temperature was finally down to normal. He walked into the _den_ area of the suite and ordered baked chicken, mashed potatoes and a glass of water from the protein re-sequencer. He set the plate and glass down at the table and collapsed in the chair. He wasn't even that hungry, but knew he needed to keep his strength up for T'Pol. He had a new appreciation for why Vulcan's only went through Pon Farr once every seven years. _I'd be dead if Solon hadn't given me that hypo, _he surmised sticking a forkful of potatoes in his mouth. _There's no way I could have kept up with her otherwise and that look in her eye….quite frankly scared the crap out of me. She looked like a wild animal. I can't even imagine what it's like when there are two of them crazed like that. No wonder why they need to be locked up for four days! Geezus!_

Making love to her was different than he had ever experienced anytime in their relationship. Once he was inside her, it seemed like the walls of her core clamped down around him and made it impossible for him to pull away. The link that was formed with she touched his cheek dropped him into their own personal reality and the exchange that took place was overwhelming to say the least. They had shared experiences when they were intimate in the past but that was nothing compared to this. He knew everything about T'Pol from the moment she was born until the instant before she crawled in bed with him yesterday and everything in between. Some of it was interesting, some not so interesting and some of it he would have rather never found out. _Like that she was addicted to trellium-d or that she liked Jon before she liked me, _he thought eating his dinner.

Probably the most startling revelation was the guilt and regret T'Pol felt to this day over then events that occurred during their mission with the Xindi, specifically at Azati Prime. Her judgment had been fatally blinded by her addiction. Her decision to remain hiding behind the moon after the Captain's one-way mission to destroy the weapon made the ship a sitting duck and resulted in the deaths of fifteen crewmen and the irreversible damage to the warp coil. It also forced the Captain's hand, causing him to cross the line of ethical behavior and steal a coil from an alien vessel. Her feeble attempt to regain her emotional control by shutting Trip out when she needed him most confirmed the suspicions he had about her mental state back then. Despite having been furious with her after the attack, he refused to give up on her. Never one to play mind games with women, Trip patiently stepped away and waited for her to come back to him, which took over a year and had to weather through her marriage and divorce to Kos. While the mission had changed all of them, Trip always knew T'Pol had been transformed the most ….little did he realize how much it had affected her and how she had hid it from him.

He rolled his eyes and tried to push those thoughts out of his head. "Let it go Tucker, she's been yours for ten years now," he scolded himself taking a drink of his water. She knew everything about him as well, but somehow her life seemed a lot more colorful than his did. _Maybe cuz she's twice as old as I am, _he thought draining the glass and walking back over to the dispenser to order another one. As the dispenser fill the glass, Trip looked out the window and was conscious for the first time they had come out of warp. _What the frig? _he thought walking back into the bedroom. He picked the communicator off the nightstand and flipped it open.

"Tucker to Commander McCann." He said walking back into the other room.

"McCann here."

"Status update?"

"Nothing to worry about sir, just changing pilots."

_Changing pilots? Since when do we drop out of warp to do that? _He rolled his eyes again before answering. "Okay, Tucker out." He flipped the communicator shut and tossed it on the table. "Guess I'll need to find out for myself," he said walking over to the computer on the desk. He pulled up status reports from engineering, tactical and the bridge and looked over what had been going on ship-wide since yesterday. "Oh, they're doing warp tests…well, why didn't he just say so?" Trip muttered when he realized was engineering was doing. _Maybe they were switching pilots while they dropped out of warp to start the test. Since McCann changed up the shifts on the duty rooster, I don't know who's on first, what's on second or what shift is coming or going. _He sighed heavily and picked up his plate and glass, putting them into the recycler. "_**Maybe**_ I just need to stop worrying about it and go back to bed," he mumbled under his breath. "Catch isn't going to let the ship blow up and if he needs me he'll come and get me."

He logged out of the computer terminal and picked up the communicator. He walked back into the bedroom, tossing it on the nightstand and crawled under the sheet next to T'Pol. _I'm not even tired, _he thought as he curled his body around hers. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of her breathing as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

00-00

_Th'y'la, I know you are awake. _

"You're getting too good at figuring me out," he said. He moved back from her body so she could roll over. "You should be asleep." He trailed his finger down the side of her cheek.

"I've rested," she replied intertwining her fingers with his.

"For what, five minutes?" He rolled his eyes at her.

"We need to talk," she began and he cut her off.

"No, we don't," Trip replied flatly knowing where she was going with that right away. "I told you the past doesn't matter. We can't change it and it doesn't affect how we feel about each other today, tomorrow or fifty years from now."

T'Pol sat up in bed, letting the sheet fall away from her naked body. She arched her brow and looked down at him. "You aren't very skilled at deceiving me."

"Oh, like you can lie to me?" he laughed. "You think you're good at it, but I can see through you." He sat up quickly and pushed her down to the mattress on her back, pressing his body against hers.

"That occurs because I allow it," she replied brushing her lips across his and drawing him into a deep kiss. _If I truly wanted to keep something from you I could….I have. _

He pulled back from her lips and cradled her head in his hands. "You may think you kept your addiction from me, T'Pol, but I knew there was something wrong with you. That mission changed all of us in some way. You were never the same after that year. You're different now that when I first met you."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment considering you didn't like me that first year."

Trip chuckled for a moment. "Okay that's a little strong," he replied. "It wasn't that I didn't like you. I just didn't want…."

"Vulcan's breathing down your neck?"

"Babe, you can breathe down my neck anytime," he said with a sly smile trying to change the subject.

"Trip, I don't want you to think our relationship was a bi-product of my addiction," she remarked looking deep into his eyes.

"I don't," he said reassuringly tracing the tips of her earlobes with his fingers. "I've never thought that. I've always believed our relationship started before we even went into the expanse. What I don't understand is why you thought that?"

"When I went to Phlox and admitted my addiction, he made a comment that made me question…"

Trip growled and rolled off her onto his back. "Phlox! I know he's your friend and yeah, he's my friend too … but sometimes he meddles too much," he said sighing heavily.

"You rebuffed me when I came back from my trip to Vulcan," T'Pol reminded him.

"Because you were married!" He rolled on his side and threw the comforter over her. He could list a couple of times she kicked him to the curb after that day, but it was pointless. He locked his gaze on her and ran his thumb across her lower lip. "Look, everything that happened to us back then was typical of a normal human relationship. I know Vulcans have arranged marriages, but on earth it's completely different. Couples meet and are all into each other for a while, and then they get into a fight about some insignificant little thing, which causes them to either break up or work it out. If it ends in a break up, it's inevitable that they will make at least one attempt to get back together. We did all those things and now…now you're my wife."

"And you have no regrets?"

"None. Do you have regrets?" He asked her carefully.

"You are my husband, Th'y'la," she replied flatly. "I cannot be without you."

"McCann to Captain Tucker."

_Just when we were getting to the good part, _Trip thought rolling over on the bed and grabbing the communicator off the nightstand. "Tucker here."

"Can you step out into the hallway sir? I need to speak to you."

"I'll be right there." Trip shut the device and looked over at T'Pol. "I don't like the sound of that," he mumbled climbing out the bed and grabbing a T-shirt out of his duffle bag. "I'll be right back." He pulled it over his head as he walked out of the bedroom and to the cabin door. "What's up?" he asked McCann once he stepped into the corridor.

"We just received a distress call from Columbia sir. It's encrypted," Shane said flatly. "Hoshi's in the command center trying to decode it."

_Frick! Can it get any worse? _Trip thought pursing his lips. "Can I borrow your communicator?" He took it from Catch's hand and flipped it open. "Tucker to Sato."

"Go ahead sir."

"Use the Romeo Epsilon protocol. I'll be in the command center in a few minutes."

"Aye sir."

"I take it this isn't an average supply run?" McCann questioned the captain and he took the closed communicator out of his hand.

"Oh, we're on a supply run Commander," Tucker remarked crossing his arms at his chest. "We are to supply medical and psychological support to the Columbia crew, while escorting them back to earth."

McCann's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "Excuse me? Escort them back to earth?"

"I'll read you in when I get to the command center," Tucker replied shortly. "I'll be up in a few minutes."

00-00

"Report?" Trip said ten minutes later as he walked through the door of the command center. Commanders McCann and Sato were the only occupants of the room and were reviewing data on one of the monitors.

"I have it sir," Hoshi said changing the view on the larger monitor. "It's a text message, a set of coordinates and three still shots. Boarded by unknown species twelve days ago, Captain and crew removed to undisclosed location, ten remain on board, and will attempt escape twenty four hours after transmission."

"The coordinates line up about here," McCann remarked pointing at the second monitor with a star chart on it. "Its about eight light years from Benzar and right on the neutral zone border, there are four planets within a few light years."

Trip stared at the star chart in silence. "And the stills?" he asked after a moment.

"Something you aren't going to like," Hoshi replied putting them up on screen.

"Sonovabitch!" Trip mumbled under his breath. "Anoree!" he blurted out staring on the photos of the aliens on the bridge of Columbia, standing guard in what appeared to be the mess hall and walking with Commander Sadek down a corridor. "Why worry about one escape pod when you can commandeer a whole ship?" He ran his hand across his brow, shook his head, and screamed to himself. _I knew that was too fricken easy! _"Get Admiral Ford and Archer on the line!" he barked out a little louder than was necessary.

"Aye sir," Hoshi replied without question.

Tucker paced around the room for a moment and then turned to face the two bridge officers. "What I'm about to tell you is Classified, Red." He glanced from McCann to Hoshi to make sure they both understood. "Four months ago, Starfleet received an encrypted message from the Chief Medical Officer on Columbia that questioned the competency level and mental welfare of Captain Hernandez. The transmission included documentation showing the Captain had doctored logs and falsified records to cover the fact she had crossed the neutral zone on what was deemed as mercy missions. When Starfleet confronted the Captain, she denied the allegations. Admiral Cooper ordered Hernandez to turn the ship around and return to earth. Then Columbia went off the grid. A week later the First Officer, Commander Sadek, contacted Starfleet to inform them the ship had hit a Romulan mine and they had taken heavy damage and injuries."

"I thought the only way to hit a Romulan mine was to be on their side of the zone," Hoshi remarked from the communication panel.

"That's correct," Trip nodded.

"And she thought she was going to get away with no one finding out?" McCann questioned rhetorically.

"Now you understand why the CMO was concerned?" Tucker replied. "Anything Hoshi?"

"We're on hold for both sir," she replied.

"Transmit the distress call to them," Tucker ordered barely skipping a beat. "Hernandez was critically injured when they hit the mine and was in a coma in sick bay. They lost about a dozen crewmen including the Chief Engineer and CMO. Admiral Cooper modified the recall and ordered Sadek to rendezvous with Darlington at Ankaa. Darlington was to escort Columbia to back until we met up with them and then we were to provide any medical and psychological support needed while we escorted them back to Earth."

"Obviously they never made the rendezvous with Darlington," McCann surmised.

"Sadek was on track to make it. After two weeks, Starfleet received another encrypted message that Hernandez was back in charge of the ship. Sadek was in the brig on charges of mutiny. Starfleet had some measures in place to ensure Hernandez was continuing to the meeting with Darlington, but her pace slowed considerably."

"I noticed something on the data Admiral Ford sent," Hoshi said transferring the logs to the main viewer temporarily. "It seems like their movement over the past two weeks was stagnate. Look at the positions and the dates… the ship didn't' move for three days, then backed up a light year, then moved a half a light year forward and finally back to the original spot."

Trip walked closer to the screen. _A covert distress call? _he thought staring at the data. _Why didn't anyone notice? Maybe no one looked at the logs. _"It looks like a covert distress call," he said aloud.

"Why didn't anyone at Starfleet notice the coordinates?" Hoshi questioned

"Probably because some flunkie was reading the report. I've worked with Cooper in the past. He probably was more concerned about _getting_ a report and not what information was in it," McCann growled under his breath.

"Tell us how you really feel," Hoshi replied.

"I thought you and Cooper were friends," Trip remarked looking over at Catch.

"Rumors," McCann said flatly stepping back against the work bar. "I'm more selective with my friends."

Trip turned and looked at the Commander. "What happened to your nose?" Trip asked when he realized it looked like someone had hit him. Hoshi stifled a laugh in the background.

"Suffice it to say, I had a close encounter during this mornings warp test," McCann said rolling his eyes.

"He got decked … literally," Hoshi blurted out. She held her hand up in surrender. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." She covered her face with her hand and continued to laugh.

Tucker looked from Sato to Catch with a bewildered expression on his face. "Did I miss something?"

"The only thing you really missed was Hoshi's hour at the helm," McCann replied moving the spot light to her. "She made it all the way up to warp four point five."

"You flew the ship and didn't hit anything?" Tucker asked her with a surprised expression on his face. "What brought all that on?"

"Commander McCann made me," Hoshi said sticking her bottom lip out.

"Really? Did he hold a gun to your head?" Tucker said quizzically.

"A smoking gun," she said shooting Catch a devious glare. She heard a popping noise from the communication panel. "Captain, the Admirals are ready now."

00-00

"Captain Tucker, what's your ETA to Columbia's coordinates?" Admiral Cooper asked Trip over the visual feed. The large monitor in the Command Center was split into five sections. Three Admirals, Ford, Cooper and Archer adorned one side; Captains Harvick and Pearson were on the other all conferencing regarding the Columbia situation. The briefing had been going on for over an hour.

"Seven days at six point five," Tucker replied.

"Still don't have that warp seven issue resolved I see," the aged admiral said gruffly. "I told Tony it was too soon to launch the ship. He was just so damned determined to get out there," he grumbled under his breath.

Trip caught Archer and Ford each make a small gesture with their hands to just ignore the Admiral's comment. Catch shook his head and mouthed the word "flunkie" at Tucker just out of range of the data stream.

"Well, even at warp six point five you're still the fastest in the fleet, although seven would be a nice addition." Cooper continued in the background without missing a beat. "Captain Pearson?"

"Two weeks."

Cooper tilted his head curiously. "You were to have met with Hernandez by this time on the original mission detail. Why are you out of position?"

"Admiral Wall diverted us last week," Captain Pearson from Darlington replied flatly.

"Admiral Wall? Did you inform him you were under orders from me?" Cooper implored into the monitor. The elderly man's face was turning bright red.

"Yes, sir, I did," Captain Pearson answered. He looked like he was about to say more but instead chose the path of least resistance.

"Harvick!" Cooper yelled out completely frustrated.

"Three weeks sir," Captain Harvick contributed visibly wincing as the sound of his name echoed across the quadrant.

"Captains! This was a C:Red mission! We have a starship missing and you are all out of position?" Cooper screamed slamming his hand on the desktop.

"Admiral, Columbia's disappearance shouldn't be a surprise to anyone at Starfleet. Their coordinate markers on the daily reports filed with your office clearly indicated the ship had not moved more than a half a light year in over ten days," Commander McCann stated from behind Tucker. "Perhaps if someone had actually reviewed the reports a week ago we wouldn't have three starships out of position right now."

Trip ducked his head during McCann's tirade and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hand. Catch was spot on with his assessment, but calling Cooper out on it was a little over the top. He even felt a touch of déjà vu, remembering a time or two when he put in his two cents worth over Archer's shoulder. He looked up at the view screen and caught the expressions from the other participants. Harvick and Archer had the same smirk on their faces and were covering their mouths with their hands. Pearson couldn't even look at the view screen and when Trip looked at the Admiral Ford's corner, he was mysteriously missing from his desk.

"Commander McCann," Cooper's dry voice rattled after several moments of silence. "Your opinion of what occurs in my department is neither warranted nor desired. I can assure you Columbia's daily reports have been reviewed with a fine tooth comb."

Trip held up his hand and shot McCann a disapproving look trying to shut him up before he stuck his foot any further down his throat. "Admiral, I'll coordinate the search and rescue operation with Captains Harvick and Pearson," Tucker summed up quickly taking the high road. The briefing had gone on long enough and he didn't think he could stand one more minute of Cooper's yelling.

"Please contact me with a sit rep as soon as you make contact with the Commander Sadek," Cooper growled into the visual feed. "And Captain Tucker since you seemed determined to choose a First Officer from the B list, it might be wise to reign in your candidate. You will still need command approval for the appointment. That will be all gentlemen," Cooper said caustically. Within seconds all five screens flickered to black.

Trip shook his head and looked over at Catch. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said he wasn't your friend. Wanna tell me what happened?"

"It's a long story," McCann mumbled waving his arm in frustration.

"We got eight days," Trip replied firmly crossing his arms at his chest.

Catch sighed heavily and gritted his teeth. "Back when I was an ass kissing lieutenant I was Captain Cooper's aide. He was head of security then. I did everything for him and I mean everything." He paced around the room as emotion twisted over his face. "I reviewed his reports, wrote his speeches, kept track of his appointments, worked double shifts, and did anything he asked of me and then some. I was with him all the time to the point that I barely had a life of my own. In fact I didn't have a life, Cooper would call me in the middle of the night and demand that I do this or that or … I made him look so damn good, so spit and polished."

"And?"

"And he testified against me at my court-marshal," Catch said with a chuckle. "He made the prosecutions case that I was self centered, ruthless and out for my own advancement."

"Was he right?" Trip asked

Catch stopped pacing and leaned against the work bar. "I had a lot of time to think about that in prison….in court I thought he was just covering his ass, but yeah, he was right,"

"Look, at some point in our careers, we all get feed back that we don't want to hear. I can't tell you how many times Archer and your Uncle have put me in my place. It's like resetting a circuit breaker," Tucker said feeling another sensation of déjà vu. "I don't think you're a B list candidate … but if it's any consolation Cooper probably thinks I'm a B list Captain."

"Yeah, well, three's company. Cooper is a B list Admiral," McCann moaned. "You know damn well no one reviewed Columbia's reports."

"Everybody knows that now," Tucker smiled crossing the room to stand next Catch. "And if there are any causalities on Columbia, he'll be the one that has to live with it. Our job is to find them… all of them, and bring them home safely." He patted Catch on the shoulder.

The door opened behind them and Tucker turned to see Hoshi and Dempsey enter the Command Center. "Was she any help?" he asked Hoshi referring to Riley giving any information on the Anoree.

Hoshi shook her head. "Not really. I had her look at the star charts. She recognized Draylax and Stameris, but that was it."

"The Anoree home world is here," Dempsey said pointing to a spot on the star chart that was within the neutral zone. "The planet is called Alpha Mensae. It's about ten light years from where the distress call originated. My people have some lingering trade agreements with them. The civil war on their world changed the political structure."

"The war that made them infertile," Tucker said leaning over on the work bar and drumming his fingers on the top. "I thought you said they weren't aggressors?"

"The Anoree aren't, the Naree …. that's a different story. The Naree are ruthless. They dropped the dirty bombs that affected their fertility in the first place," Dempsey remarked.

"Didn't they realize they would be affected as well?" Hoshi asked looking around the room at the three men.

Dempsey shrugged his shoulders. "They probably didn't consider the fall out. The Naree were hell bent on controlling the planet. Anoree were the dominate species back then."

"Aren't they still the dominate species? Isn't Ambassador Gevale an Anoree," Catch asked.

"Yes and the Anoree control the senate, but they will only retain the position if the Royal Family has a male heir to continue the family line."

"What about Gevale's daughter?" Trip asked with a perplexed expression on his face.

"It's always been a male dominated society," Dempsey answered shaking his head. "Women aren't allowed to hold positions of power."

"That's rather archaic," Hoshi mumbled under her breath.

"Well, whether Elnora has any true power or not, she certainly thinks she has," Trip said walking closer to the monitor with the star chart on it. "Demps, doesn't your brother work in security?"

"One of his wives does," Dempsey replied.

"One?" McCann repeated quizzically.

"Andorian marriages consist of four partners," Hoshi contributed from the work bar. She watched Catch raise his eyebrows in shock and smiled at his reaction.

"Could you…." Tucker started to say.

"Yes, I'll get in touch with her to see what else she knows," Dempsey interrupted.

"What about the warp test?" Trip asked him walking over to a computer terminal and pulling up a status report. He stared at the data on the screen while Dempsey rambled on in the background.

"Well, we ran two tests at six point seven today. The first didn't go so well. We ran the second one for six hours before the safeties kicked in," Dempsey remarked. "It's the same issue. The saucer dips and the nacelles pop up," he said motioning with his hands.

"I have an opinion about that," McCann volunteered looking around the room.

Tucker glanced up from the monitor at Catch and then back at Dempsey. "Okay," he replied slowly. "Let's hear it."

"Twenty first century stock car racing," Catch said walking over to a monitor and bringing a cross section of the ship up on the screen.

Trip glanced at the monitor with a confused expression on his face. "I'm familiar with it. I watched a few races with your uncle."

"My great great grandfather was the champion of the series in twenty oh two and twenty oh five," McCann said. He looked over at Dempsey and explained further. "Cars raced around oval tracks that were banked thirty degrees at speeds of two hundred miles per hour. Banking, speed and weight of the car caused them to fly around, flip over and go airborne. To keep the car on the ground, engineers would use valances, spoilers and splitters to work the aerodynamics in their favor."

"Creating down force," Tucker remarked thinking aloud.

"Right. Valances manipulated the air over the front of the car and kept the nose on the ground," Catch said. "Spoilers did the same for the rear end." He pushed a couple of keys and the cross section of the ship changed to show a spoiler on the nacelles and saucer section.

"You think we need a spoiler?" Tucker said looking at the screen.

"Well, obviously it would need to be larger than this … but," McCann said motioning at the screen. He looked at Tucker and Dempsey who were both staring at the monitor. Hoshi was working on another console and not paying any attention to them. "Okay … maybe it's a stupid idea."

"No, it's not stupid," Dempsey remarked looking at the screen. "It actually makes sense." He looked at Tucker.

"I agree," Tucker replied changing the view on the monitor. "We'd have to construct something heavier…."

"Maybe just to weight down the nacelles," Dempsey added. "I'll work up some simulations. Good job Catch," The Andorian slapped McCann on the shoulder. "I'll be in Engineering working through this and calling my sister-in-law." He turned on his heel and walked out of the command center.

"Not bad for the B list," Tucker remarked with a smile on his face. He winked at McCann. "I'm going back to my quarters; call me if you need me."

00-00

Riley felt like her lungs were going to explode. Every breath she took seared through her body like molten lava. She could hear her heart pounding in her ear and felt her pulse throb against her throat like it had a strangle hold on her. Her thighs were on fire, the muscles burning with each step she took. Her feet felt like cement bricks at the end of her legs. Riley felt nauseous and stopped moving when she thought she felt her stomach heave.

"Stop! I can't," she muttered panting heavily. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees struggled to take an even breath. "David," she said a little louder this time, as he was halfway down the hall from her. She watched him stop jogging and turn to walk back to her.

"Riley," he tisked as he approached her. "Come on, we're almost there. We just need to go around the deck to the gym. We'll walk the last three laps."

"I'm dying," she moaned still trying to catch her breath. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"You just asked me that ten minutes ago," he replied flatly standing impatiently next to her.

"You didn't answer," she said standing upright and resting her hand on the wall. She looked over at the MACO officer as he stood there with his arms crossed at his chest. If she didn't know him better she would think he was mad at her, but she had learned a few things about him in the past two weeks.

Lieutenant David Haas was exactly what Riley hoped her real brother would be like. Haas fit the model of the rest of the MACO officers tall, athletic, muscular, strong and mean looking, except that he wasn't mean, at least not around Riley. She was sure she wouldn't want to get in a real fight with him however, as he could probably crush her with his pinky finger. David was one of the only men assigned to her detail and outside of the Captain, Solon and sometimes Commander Rybaiski, the only male she truly felt comfortable around and trusted. She liked him because he didn't handle her with kid gloves. He challenged her to face her fears and encouraged her to take responsibility for her welfare. He had been working with her during her physical therapy for the past two weeks under Dr. McCann's guidance. Today they were jogging the loop on deck eleven; seventeen laps equaled a full mile, but Riley's goals was only half.

"If I was actually trying to kill you it would be a short fight," he said with a half smirk.

"Oh you think so?" she replied with a smile. "I'm pretty tough you know," she added rolling her head on her neck in a know-it-all manner.

"Right … that's why its so easy for you to jog a half mile down here," he chuckled. "Come on, standing around just makes it harder," he said motioning for her to continue with him.

"Ugh… I hate you," she mumbled starting to run again.

"Just for that, I think we should go another full lap," he teased. He looked over and caught her growling under her breath. "You know, if you put those grumbles to work in a more positive manner, you'd get a lot more accomplished."

"David!" Riley said loudly as they made the turn at the end of the corridor. "Shut up!" She was quiet as they jogged down the short corridor and made their way to the junction that took them the length of the deck. "Why can't I just run on one of those machines in the gym again?" She was panting heavily again.

"Running on a real surface allows the mechanics of your body work better. It's more natural and puts all your muscle groups to work. Running on the trend mill only engages the leg muscles," he replied hardly out of breath at all.

"Why even have them up there?" she asked between gasps.

"Because people are lazy," he said. "It's easier to run on a machine for twenty minutes barely breaking a sweat while watching the sports monitor in the gym than to come down here and make seventeen laps around the loop with no entertainment."

"Remind me why I need to come down here again," she asked him as they approached the next short cross.

"Because you are made of stronger stuff than those other wimps on the ship," he said flatly. "You'd make a good security officer. You've got that good Irish blood in you."

"Ha, ha," Riley chuckled jogging down the short shoot. "Whatever that means." She continued jogging down the corridor and turned the corner heading back around for the extra lap. As she passed by crew quarters, she thought she heard one of the doors open and turned her head to look back. When she saw a shadow in the doorway she stopped running and turned to get a better look at the doorway. "Lieutenant," she called to him when she noticed he kept running.

"What?" he said turning around. The expression on her face wasn't fatigue this time and caught his attention right away.

"I thought you said that no one lived on this deck," she asked quietly still looking down the hall.

"The lowest deck anyone lives on is deck seven," he said walking up behind her. "What's wrong?"

"I thought I heard something," she muttered under her breath looking up at him. "When we turned the corner … I thought I heard one of the doors swoosh open or shut."

"That's impossible. Sure you aren't just hearing things?" he said looking down at her, but one look in her eyes told him that she wasn't just faking it anymore. He pulled his flashlight out of his utility pocket and headed back down the hall in the opposite direction. "Which door?"

"The second one from the corner," she said following him down the corridor. He stopped in front of the door where she saw the shadow and motioned to her to confirm he was in the right place. With only a hand signal he told her to step back down the hallway to the opposite side of the corridor, all of which she did without question. She watched as the lieutenant key in the security override of the door and when the door opened, he entered the room in a standard search posture. He walked back into the hallway a few minutes later and motioned for her to follow him down the hall.

"What?" she said as she walked quickly behind him. "David?"

"The room is clear," he said flatly trying not to freak her out. "But just to be on the safe side, I'll have a security team sweep the deck. I don't want you using this as an excuse not to run anymore."

"Don't worry," Riley replied rolling her eyes. "I survived four years as a slave, I can survive anything. I'm made of stronger stuff, remember?"

tbc


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Ambassador Gevale cut the comm line and stared at the black screen in front of him. He felt his whole body tense and the scales on his head press against his skull. The muscles in his face flexed as he ground his teeth together. Gevale stood from the chair he was sitting on and swept his arm across the desk, knocking everything to the floor. "Elnora!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Gevale stomped around the small room and slammed his fist into the wall in frustration. Elnora was spiraling out of control. She had always been obsessive and her mother indulged the behavior. As a child she had frequent tantrums and bullied his wife into giving her what she wanted. Elnora thrived in the veil of power but her vision was clouded. She was only concerned about her wealth, her linage, her needs not the needs of the Anoree people or the Royal Family.

Gevale leaned his head against the wall and sighed heavily. He should have reined her in years ago, but now it was too late. Due to the attack on the Starfleet ship, the Andorians were leveling an embargo on their trade agreements and would advise other worlds to do the same. Anoree depended on commerce from other worlds to fortify their economy. _Her damned obsession with hybrids will be the ruination of our world! _He turned from the wall and headed back to his desk.

"Get my daughter on the line immediately!" he screamed into the communication device.

00-00

Atar paced nervously across the room. His breath was ragged and he could feel the sweat rolling down his back. "Levine, the mistress will be calling in five minutes and she is going to want to know how her "little project" is going. What do you suggest I tell her?"

"The truth?"

Atar turned and stared directly at the monitor. "The truth?" he spat out throwing his hands up in the air. "You want me to tell her the truth? She slaughtered Doctor Rovik when he told her the truth!"

"You're ten light years apart Atar!" Levine laughed into the screen. "What could she possibly do to you?"

"You obviously don't know her very well," Atar mumbled shaking his head. "I'm fricken screwed!"

"Well, then lie to her ….. how the frick is she going to know?"

What?" Atar stammered in disbelief. "Are you stupid? The minute I lie to her about how great everything is she'll want to run over to the compound and to see for herself. Then what the frick are you going to tell her when she gets there?" Atar screamed at the monitor and jumped up and down.

Levine sat back in his chair and put his hand across his chest. "Atar, I'm flattered that you are concerned about my welfare," he chuckled. "But I'm not afraid of the Mistress. Tell her what you want and if she shows up here, she better bring it." Levine signed off on comm channel and the screen went black.

Atar stood motionless in the middle of the room. He gritted his teeth and punched his fists into the air participating in an imaginary boxing match. _I'm completely and utterly s-c-r-e-w-e-d! It doesn't matter how many light years are between the Ambassador's ship and Elnora's … when she finds out her "project" is a bust, she'll kill me! I should have never gone along with this stupid plan. The Ambassador was right all this time. _

"Atar! What the hell are you doing?" Elnora growled from the monitor across the room.

Her voice sliced through him like a knife and he froze in his tracks. "Mistress!" he shuttered, slowly turning around. His scale stood on end in shock. "I didn't realize you were on the line," he remarked trying to play it off casually.

"Why not? Were you not tracking the time?"

"I … ah…."

"Stop babbling like an idiot!" she said moving closer to the screen, which made her face look larger than life. "Have you spoken to Levine?"

Atar plastered a smile on his face. "Oh, yes … I just spoke to him," he said acting upbeat.

"And? Stop wasting my time!"

"The project is ….ah…. going well. Ten of our females are pregnant," he replied nodding his head.

"Ten? By the humans?"

"Yes…ah, with the hybrid seed compound," Atar said evenly. "And five of the human females have been inseminated with human seed."

"Inseminated? Why was that done?" Elnora questioned him. She was still leaning into the screen, which distorted her features on Atar's view.

"I ah…thought you wanted to run a controlled hybrid test," Atar stammered feeling his body begin to tremble again.

"I do… you idiot! Why were the human females inseminated? Why weren't they positioned for fertilization with their own males?"

"We tried… Mistress…the doctors even tainted the male's food with aphrodisiacs. But they refused to comply, so we had to resort to other collection methods." Atar walked back to the desk and sat down in front of the monitor. "There is one small problem, Mistress," he said in a small voice.

"What is it?" she yelled into the screen.

"There were some disciplinary problems at the compound, less than half of the human males remain."

"**WHAT?**" Elnora yelled shoving the monitor back. "What idiot allowed that to occur? We need every one of the human males to repopulate our planet! You call Levine back immediately and tell him that none of the remaining males are to be killed! Do you hear me?" she roared into the screen. Her face had turned purple and veins were sticking out of her neck. "Atar! Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mistress …. I hear you," he coughed out.

"How many males are left on the human ship?"

"Seven."

"Then move them to the compound and destroy the vessel," she retorted. "We have no need for that hunk of tin anyway!"

"Don't you think we should salvage what we can from the ship before we destroy it?"

Elnora sighed heavily. "Atar, my only concern is the hybrid project. What you chose to do with the ship is not my business." She stabbed her hand down on the pad and cut the comm line between them.

00-00

Ambassador Gevale stared at the blank screen and felt his whole body begin to tremble. After he requested to be connected to his daughter, the bridge informed him that she was pending in the queue for Atar, who was talking to Levine at their research facility. Gevale demanded to be spliced into the connection without either party's knowledge. None of the facts that were discussed in either conversation had really surprised him. The minute the Andorian's had informed him the human ship was missing and had provided proof that Anoree were involved, Gevale knew Elnora had masterminded it. Even his aide's role as a collaborator wasn't news to the Ambassador. Only Elnora's single mindedness over her "project" as Levine and Atar referred to it concerned him.

"She's delusional!" he cursed under his breath. He shoved the desk in frustration knocking the computer monitor to the floor. "And Atar is an idiot for feeding into her fantasy!" He stood up and shoved the desk again screaming at the top of his lungs. _There's only one way to fix this now! _he thought as he stormed out of his stateroom.

tbc


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"I think it's the air in that room," Lieutenant Trey Burrows commented as he and Lieutenant Kyle Mahoney walked out of the rec room. "The longer you are in there the more distorted everything seems."

"Maybe it's the girls," Mahoney mumbled. "I don't feel like _that_ anywhere else in the complex. Yet when I'm around them I can't control myself."

"We need to be controlling ourselves in there. They collect everything you know," Burrows said arching his eyebrows at his friend.

Mahoney rolled his eyes. "That's disgusting," he scowled shaking his head. "I may have a bunch of kids running around in some peach-tree dish." Mahoney noticed that Burrows had stopped walking and was squatting against the wall. "What's wrong?" Mahoney said turning to look at him.

"I'm sick of this place," Burrows whispered sitting down on the floor. He rested his arms on his knees and dropped his head to his chest. "They control everything. What I eat, what I do …It's claustrophobic. I feel like a zoo animal, stuck in a cage with people staring at me all day."

"How is that different than being on the ship?" Mahoney asked him squatting down on one knee.

"Excuse me?"

"How is this different than being on the ship?"

"It's a lot fricken different!" Burrows growled. "For one, I'm a part of something good, not a prisoner! I work a ten-hour shift in sickbay and feel like I'm contributing to the whole. I have a room that has my stuff in it; I can see Kelly or talk to my parents and my sister any damn time I want. Here, I walk around half-naked all day, I'm drugged and forced to do things that I wouldn't have even done on a date with Kelly or anyone for that matter. I'm a prisoner with this damn bracelet on my wrist!"

"What I meant was, on the ship we're in a confined space. We can't just leave anytime we want and we certainly cannot go outside to feel the weather or breathe fresh air," Mahoney replied defensively.

"The weather? Are you feeling okay?" Burrows asked looking at the junior officer suspiciously. "You're started to talk all crazy."

"And you're not?" he questioned Burrows. He paused a moment and the shrugged his shoulders. "Okay … I might be a little delusional," he chuckled. "I keep telling myself that I'm on the ship because it makes things seem more tolerable." Mahoney stared at the floor a moment. "I went into the courtyard today so I could stand in the rain. The guard thought I was losing it!"

Burrows looked over at him and shook his head. "Oh yeah, you've fricken lost it." He pushed off the wall and stood up. "I think you need food, come on, let's go eat, so they can drug us some more." He held his hand out for Mahoney to grab. As he pulled the man up, a door clicked behind him and they heard the shuffle of feet in the hall.

"You," the voice of the guard said. "Come with me."

Both Mahoney and Burrows exchanged glances and turned to face the guard. "Who me?" Burrows asked when he realized the guard was pointing at him.

"Yes, come with me," the guard repeated.

"I was just in there," Burrows said pointing at the rec room door. "I've done my time today," he arguing with the guard.

The guard stared at him and pulled his electric stick from his belt. "Come with me," he repeated for the last time.

"Just go Lieutenant," Mahoney said under his breath.

"Okay, okay," Burrows replied holding his hands up in the surrender. "I'll go."

"Hands on your head," the guard growled and pointed his electric stick at the doorway.

Lieutenant Burrows did as instructed for fear the guard would jolt him with the stick. He suspected it killed instantly. He had seen the results of the stick in action, the sickening sizzle of flesh burning and the hollow expression on the recipients face. _I guess it wouldn't be that bad of way to go, 'cept it would hurt like hell for half a micro-second, _he thought as he walked down the corridor in front of the guard.

Trey glanced around his surroundings as he passed by, careful not to move his head one way or the other. The guard took him through a maze of hallways, past the holding area for the 'entertainment' of the rec room, their locker room and dining area. _I see their digs aren't any better than ours, _he thought as he walked by.

They turned the next corner and the guard told him to stop and face the wall. Trey bit his lip as he stood there waiting and wondering what was going to be his fate. The stillness of the hallway seemed to over amplify every sound he heard. His own heart pounded in his ear, fueling his apprehension. He heard a door buzz open down the corridor and the telltale shuffle of a guard coming toward him. Trey could feel the sweat forming on his brow and his heart rate quicken. As he concentrated on the footsteps, he realized there was not just one set of footfalls. He turned his head slightly to the right to watch the approach and nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized who was coming toward him.

"This one argues too much," the guard standing behind him said gruffly. "He's not worth your time."

"Did you threaten him with that stick thing of yours?" Ensign Morgan said as she walked toward the pair. She caught the knowing expression on the guard's face. "Perhaps if you had told him why he needed to follow you he wouldn't have argued." She stopped walking and crossed her arms at her chest. "Right Lieutenant?"

Burrows exhaled loudly, not realizing he had been holding his breath. "Yeah, that would have been helpful, instead of letting me think I was being led here to die." It was all he could do to resist the urge to scoop her up in his arms. Considering the sneer on her escorts face, he decided that wouldn't go over to well.

"We're under orders to not harm any of the human males," the guard said flatly.

"Since when?" Burrows asked turning all the way around. He kept his hands on his head. "Two of our guys just died yesterday!"

"This morning," the guard replied looking directly at him. "You don't have much time Kelly," he added. He stepped around Burrows and opened the wall panel next to him revealing a small room with one cot inside. "You have fifteen minutes."

"I need him to come back to my cell," Kelly began to argue. The second guard turned quickly and pushed her firmly against the wall. It caught her off guard and silenced her instantly.

"I allowed this visit and I allowed the medical supplies to be brought to your cell," he said caustically pointing his clawed finger in her face. "You need to tread carefully. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Kelly whispered, wincing at the blast of foul breath that hit her in the face. .

He stepped back and pointed at the doorway. "Fifteen minutes." He motioned for Burrows and Morgan to step into the room. As Ensign Morgan passed, Shavu grabbed her arm. "No funny stuff," he growled in her ear.

"What happened to the nice Shavu?" She snarled at him. She saw the cold expression in his eyes and bit her lip. "Never mind, I get it," she muttered stepping through the door.

"Are you sleeping with him?" Trey asked her accusingly as soon as the panel slid shut.

"What happened to Hi Kelly, I love you? Nice to see you're still alive?" she said sitting down on the bunk.

"You didn't answer my question," he replied flatly crossing his arms at his chest.

"Are you jealous?" She sighed. "I'm not sleeping with him."

"Really? Then how is it that you got him to bring me here and take you to the dining area?" Burrows said angrily letting his emotions get the best of him.

"You wouldn't understand," she said drawing her legs up on the bunk.

"Try me."

"Leave it to you to be more concern about … something so fricken trivial right now! We don't have time for this," she grumbled. "We need to talk about escaping. It's our duty to at least attempt it."

"Why you just answer the question and then we can get on with things," Trey yelled at her. "Look Kelly, I took the same SERE class as you and I know what Professor Ajoy insinuated about succumbing to sexual pressure from your capturers and sympathizing with them. The Stockholm syndrome, remember?"

"It's not like that okay?" Kelly replied. "I didn't succumb to any pressure. I suggested it. I'm not doing anything that you haven't paid for at a strip club. It doesn't matter anyway because their impotent!"

"You're giving them lap dances?" he asked with a perplexed look on his face.

"It seemed like a good idea and considering it bought me five extra days of life. I figured it was worth it," she yelled back. "Besides, who are you to talk? I know what goes on in your cellblock!"

"We don't have a choice Kelly! We are required to go to that room every thirteen hours and it's damn hard not to comply with what the girls want. It's like we're drugged. I think it's pumped in through the air vents or something. We're watched the whole time and if the guards don't think we are participating enough we're yanked out of there!" Trey ran his fingers through his hair and paced around the small room like a caged animal. "There are only nineteen men from Columbia left. There's one female in the medical bay and you. That's it Kelly. Twenty one out of seventy seven," His voice trailed off and was riddled with emotion.

Kelly bit her lip and felt tears stinging in her eyes. She knew their situation was hopeless. She knew the other females from her cell had probably been killed, but hearing his words scared the crap out of her. "The captain," she mumbled wiping the tears from her face. .

"What about her?" Burrows blurted out. "I hope she's fricken dead! We're in the mess because she screwed the pooch! It would be poetic justice if she died a miserable death in this crap hole!" He stopped pacing and leaned his head against the wall. The room was silent for a moment. Soon he felt her arms around his waist and the warmth of her body against his.

Before he could realize what he was doing, Trey turned around and cupped her face in his hands. He brushed his lips against hers, drawing her into a deep passionate kiss. Trey could feel her breast through the thin cloth that covered them and he was quick to snake his hand under her shirt to touch them. He heard Kelly gasp and felt her fingernails rake across his chest. He pulled back from her lips and took a deep breath.

Trey wanted nothing more than to make love to her, but now was not the time. He had no doubt they were being monitored, but that wasn't the reason he was trying to abstain. He had been with two other females in the rec room a mere two hours ago and now being here in front of her made him feel dirty. He had taken a shower before he left the rec area, but it didn't matter in his head. It was the exact reason why he tried to avoid seeing Kelly in the dining area. He pulled her head to his chest and nuzzled his nose in her hair. She smelled clean and just so _Kelly_. He missed her and standing next to her was tearing his heart out.

"God, I love you," Trey mumbled into her hair. He pulled her chin up and stared her in the eye. He caught the tears that tumbled out of them with his thumb as he caressed her check.

"Trey," she whispered, barely audible. "Make love to me."

He swallowed hard and held her gaze. "Kelly, I can't …." He finally said, even though his body betrayed him. "Not like this."

"Please, Trey. I need to feel something good," she begged. She ran her finger down the side of his face. "We both may be dead tomorrow."

Burrows closed his eyes and felt his will slipping away. Despite that the guard said no other males were to be killed, how was he to know it was the truth? They were prisoners. The guard would say anything just to jack with his mind. Trey felt her take his hand and pull him to the bunk. He heard her whisper _make love to me _in his ear again as his body betrayed his mind. He opened his eyes and noticed she had removed what little clothing she wore. She untied his pants and dropped them to the floor effortlessly Trey took in the sight of her body and shuddered at what he saw.

Kelly hadn't been exactly truthful about her actions with the guards. She had scratches along her stomach and the inside of her thighs. There were bruises along her ribs and her arms. It sickened him to see her like this and he sat on the bunk, covering his face with his hand.

"Kelly," he said leaning back against the wall. "What have they done to you?"

"It's nothing," she whispered. "They haven't hurt me. I promise. It's kept me alive. Just think of it as that." She straddled his legs and lowered herself down on him.

After a second, whatever her excuse was it didn't matter anymore. As he slipped into the abyss of their connection all he was concerned about was granting her wish.

00-00

Ensign Sandy Miner tried to play it cool in the turbolift as she ascended to Columbia's bridge with her escort. She could feel the coolness of the phase pistol pressed against her breast, just under the zipper of her jacket. The stun grenade was in her left utility pocket and hit her in the knee as she walked. Sandy had the movement of the guard down to a science. Once she exited the turbolift and walked over to the communication station, he would cross the bridge and plop his fat ass down in the captain's chair. Then he would sit there picking his teeth and swinging lazily in the chair until she stood up and walked back to the lift. _I'll sit at the console for ten minutes going through the motions and then I'll shoot him…preferably in the head, right on his big ugly snout, _she thought as the lift doors opened at the bridge. _frick! _she cursed as she scanned the deck.

There were two guards on the bridge, one sitting in the Captain's chair, one at the helm station. The guard that was escorting her crossed the bridge and took the seat at tactical. Miner walked to the communication station and quickly assessed the situation. All three of the guards were armed. _There's no way I'm going to be able to shoot all three without getting killed. __I'm fricken screwed! _she thought as her hands flew over her panel. She hung the speaker on her ear and tried to act as normal as possible while turning in to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"…Orders from the Mistress. Trovan is on his way to tow the ship out of the nebula and destroy it."

"What of the crew?"

"The males are to be taken to the compound."

"And the females?"

Sandy could feel all eyes turn toward her as silence fell across the bridge. She made herself busy at the console waiting patiently for the right moment. She had already unbuttoned the utility pocket preparing for her next move. _I'll drop the earpiece, pull the grenade and toss it between the helm and the captain's chair. _Miner stared at the comm monitor to her left and watched the reflections of the three lizards on the screen. _You can stop fricken staring at me now! _she screamed to herself as she scrolled through the messages. .

"Take your turns and then kill them," the guard sitting in the Captain's chair finally said.

She shuddered mentally at the thought of them touching her. _It's bad enough that they watch me shower, _she thought swallowing hard. _Sorry, not today buddy. _She pulled the grenade out of her pocket and stuck it up the sleeve of her jacket. _Plan B, head for the lift door, toss the grenade and jump into the lift to escape the blast. Too bad I can't get the lift door to open up from here, _she thought. Sandy mindlessly flicked her fingers on the keys. She bit her lip and looked up at the monitor to see if the guards were paying any attention to her. _Maybe I can, _she smiled inwardly and typed out a message to Alvarez's communicator. _S__nag, 3 g's, send lift. _She hit the send button.

Sandy muted her console and continued to scroll through the email traffic on her monitor. She carefully watched the three guards behind her. They weren't doing anything more than sitting there chatting amongst themselves. _Waiting, _she surmised. _Waiting for this Trovan to arrive, I wonder how long that's going to take. If I remember correctly, their ships can only reach warp three, so where's he/she/it coming from? _She activated the scanners to check for incoming ships. There was nothing on the sensors in the immediate area. _Okay, so he's not close. Let's widen the perimeters a little. _She punched a few keys and pretended again to be reading email on her monitor. Five minutes passed before she noticed the flickering of her monitor with Alvarez's response. _In position. _

Miner closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her moment of truth had arrived. _Professor Ajoy would be proud, _she thought as she deleted any trace of the message from her console. She dimmed the sensor monitor, removed the earpiece and logged off her station. She turned her chair around, stood up and took five paces to the lift door. She watched the guard at tactical get up out of the corner of her eye. _If I'm alive tomorrow I'll send him a thank you note, _she said to herself as she dropped the grenade into her palm. Miner pushed the lift button and pulled the pin from the device. As the door slid open, Sandy tossed the grenade on the floor next to the Captain's chair and stepped into the lift, slamming the 'close' button with her fist.

The door had only half shut when the bang popped off, but she was shielded from the blast. Alvarez and Rios dropped down from the crawl space atop the lift and entered the bridge with pistols drawn. Two of the guards were unconscious by the helm. Alvarez stunned Miner's escort, who had dove into the situation room to avoid the blast.

"Clear," Ensign Rios said as he circled the room. He motioned for Miner to help him drag the two guards into the lift.

"Alvarez to Commander Sadek."

"Sadek."

"The bridge is secure sir."

"Great job! All stations have reported secure."

"Miner had it all under control sir," Alvarez added smiling at the young ensign. "Rios will be on his way down with the guards in a moment."

"Great."

Sandy dropped the last guard in the lift and watched the door close. "Chief, we have to get out of here. I overheard the guards talking, there's someone on the way to destroy the ship. I'm running sensor sweeps now, there's nothing within one light year."

"Commander did you hear that?" Alvarez asked Sadek through the communicator. "Commander?"

"What happened?" Miner asked him as she crossed the bridge.

"I don't know," Alvarez answered. "Crewman Hitchcock," he said into the communicator. Hitchcock was in position in engineering waiting for the signal to bring the reactor online. In the days prior Alvarez and Hitchcock re-routed helm control to engineering to make their get away faster.

"Go ahead Chief."

"Fire the engines and lay in a course to the Benzar system. Get us out of here maximum warp."

"Aye sir."

"Commander Sadek?" There was still no answer to the hail. Alvarez rolled his eyes and called for the crewman assigned to Sadek's team. "Crewman Bell?" After a moment of silence he called another team member. "Lieutenant Keller?"

"Keller here."

"I can't reach the Commander. Ensign Miner overheard the guards. Someone is en route to destroy the ship. I've ordered Hitchcock to fire the engines and get us out of here."

"Good call Chief. Stay on the bridge and man tactical. Tell Miner to maintain radio silence for now. I'm going to check on the Commander. Keller out."

00-00

Lieutenant Burrows walked down the hall without his escort and headed directly to the bunk room. The guard, Shavu, had changed the protocol on his bracelet and moved it from his wrist to bicep. Burrows fiddled with it and flexed the muscles of his upper arm to see if he could break it to no avail. The new protocol gave Burrows the ability to move freely between his cell block and Kelly's. Of course, it all came with a price and the terms of the agreement weren't as amicable as he would have liked.

He was still required to go to the rec room for his daily deposit. Kelly's arrangement with the guards had to remain intact. All of his conversations were monitored. He couldn't say anything about the stun sticks not working and if anyone asked where he was going everyday, he was to say he was going for medical tests. He could tell the others minimal information about the escape attempt but that was it.

Trey didn't like any of it, but went along only because it allowed him to see Kelly and protect her in some fashion. In the end, he was a prisoner and he was lucky…. just damn lucky that he was alive at all. He turned the corner into the bunkroom and found Lake, Mahoney, Tate, Richert and a handful of others grouped together in the middle of the room.

"Speak of the devil," Tate said with a huge look of relief on his face. "What the hell happened? Mahoney said the guard took you away."

"Yeah, he took me to Kelly," Burrows said. He flexed his hand as he remembered the feeling of her hair between his fingers. "She's okay," he said nodding to the rest of the crew.

"What's up with your band?" Richert asked motioning at Kyle's arm.

"Ugh, I'm the latest guinea pig I guess," Trey replied with a shrug flexing his bicep unconsciously. "This gets me into the medical lab." He watched the crew nodded in acceptance of his answer. _One lie down, _he thought remorsefully.

"What did Kelly say about…," Lake asked looking up at the Lieutenant.

Burrows ran his hand across his brow. "The guard will help us. We need to sit tight, they're expecting a transport ship in a couple of days and then…," he paused momentarily and looked around at the remaining Columbia crew. "Then the guard will let us know what to do." He left it at that and headed to his bunk.

00-00

"Report," Lieutenant Keller asked as he entered the bridge from the turbolift. Chief Alvarez and Ensign Miner were at the tactical, communication stations. The guards were locked down in an empty cargo bay with Rios and Nieto taking first watch. Ensign Lippert and Crewman Hitchcock were staffing engineering. Crewmen Battles was in sickbay tending to Commander Sadek and Crewman Bell. Columbia had been traveling at warp three for over fourteen hours by this point and so far had not encountered any hostile vessels.

"Nothing on sensors sir," Alvarez reported from tactical.

"Scanning all comm traffic," Miner said from the comm station. "No transmissions from any ship."

He nodded stepping in front of the Captain's chair. He leaned back and opened the comm line. "Bridge to Engineering."

"Lippert here."

"How's it going Ensign?"

"All's fine skipper," the Ensign replied.

"I'd like to have helm control re-routed to the bridge," Keller remarked. "Crewman Hitchcock will take the first shift."

"Aye sir," engineering answered.

"Bridge out." Keller said killing the line. "Chief, join me in the ready room? Ensign Miner you have the bridge."

"Aye sir," Sandy replied. She punched a couple of buttons on her console to enable tactical functions.

Alvarez followed Keller into the ready room. Keller started rambling a mile a minute as soon as the door shut. "Crewman Bell will be okay. She's resting now, but should be okay to take over for Hitchcock in a couple of hours. Commander Sadek's unconscious. He was shot several times. I … ah I dunno….I don't know if he's going to make it. Battles is trying to treat him, but she's barely a medic," He paced around the small room and ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

Alvarez watched the junior grade officer and realized the man was starting to come unglued. "Lieutenant, get a hold of yourself!" Alvarez said sharply. "You're in charge now. The crew needs to know you can handle it."

"That's just it Chief! I don't know if I can handle it," Keller mumbled frantically. "This whole fricken mess that we've been in the past few months? I'm not on a command track! " he sunk into the chair behind the desk. He leaned his elbows on the desk and steepled his palms in front of him. "I think Sadek shot himself."

"What?" Freddie coughed out. "What do you mean he shot himself?" Considering the Commander's behavior the past three days Freddie hardly found the Lieutenant's statement startling. In fact, he almost suspected Sadek would try to get killed during the escape attempt.

"Earlier when you called and I went looking for him. His area was secure, but when I got down to E Deck, he was laying by the turbolift with a phaser wounds all over his body … to his leg, stomach and head. There was a guard down the hall from him dead," Keller said looking up at him.

Alvarez was quiet as he thought about it. _That means he would have had to shoot the guard on kill and then switch his pistol back to stun to shoot himself. Or he could have shot himself first and then killed the guard. Or the guard could have shot him first._ "How do you know the guard didn't shoot him?"

"I found a stun stick lying next to the commander. His weapon was on stun and the head wound is on the side," Keller said pointing at his head.

"Maybe the guard hit him with the stick and when he was trying to retreat Sadek shot him," Freddie surmised.

"No, I know what you're thinking," Keller replied. "There's no way the guard hit him with the stun stick. It's definitely a phaser wound. Besides his body was positioned all wrong. Let me show you." He stood up and walked to the center of the room and laid down on the floor. "The Commander was lying like this when I found him." Keller rolled on his back and turned his head to the left. "The wound is on the right side of his face behind the ear." He looked up at Alvarez. "If the guard would have shocked him, the wound would have been on his face or front of his torso. Sadek would have crumpled to the floor on his side, not fallen flat on his back."

"How was the guard laying?" Alvarez asked. He resisted his urge to laugh at the Lieutenant's reenactment. Keller loved to be an actor and always expressed himself visually. But the lieutenant was a worrywart and Alvarez knew the best way to calm him down was to distract him with some nonsense, in this case, playing out this scene.

"Flat on his back."

"Maybe the guard knocked the Commander down and then shot him in the head? Alvarez offered as a solution.

"And then what?" Keller said sitting up. "Kill himself in a self sacrifice during his retreat?"

"Oh, yeah… forgot that part," Freddie mumbled. He didn't forget however, he was still using it as a diversion. "Where did you find him?"

"E Deck, forward turbolift, port side," Keller answered standing up from the deck.

Freddie tilted his head. "There should be a security sensor right there. I could check the feed and see if anything shows up." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Good idea," Keller remarked. He was much calmer now. He put his hands on his hips and kicked the leg of the desk. "Chief ….Thanks."

"For what?" Alvarez asked giving the Lieutenant a quizzical look.

"Calming me down," Keller replied with a smirk. "I guess I needed a dose of … what did you call that the other day?"

"Enlisted ingenuity. I have plenty of it, sir," Alvarez smiled. "You know where to find me when you are ready for a refill." Alvarez inclined his head and exited the ready room.

00-00

"Look, there goes another nice asteroid belt we could hide in," mumbled Ensign Sandy Miner. She stared at the sensor data from the scans at the tactical station and sighed heavily. Eighteen hours had passed since Columbia's escape from the hostile aliens. All was quiet on the ship for the remaining crew and according to scans no one was tailing them.

"I was thinking more like the moons just a parsec from there," Crewman Hitchcock remarked looking over at the Ensign. The two had been alone on the bridge for the past three hours, since Lieutenant Keller and Chief Alvarez had gone in the Captain's ready room for their private conference. Alvarez had returned to the bridge for a short time and then was called to Engineering by Ensign Lippert. Lieutenant Keller left the ready room shortly after the Chief and walked down the service corridor heading to parts unknown.

"This is crap!" Ensign Miner blurted out banging her fist on the console. "Why are we running all the way to the Benzar system? We should be looking for the rest of the crew."

"Sandy, we can't go looking for the rest of the crew with only ten people on board," Hitchcock said from the helm. "We might be able to hold off the aliens for a little while, but if we get boarded again?" he shrugged his shoulders. "I think clearing the area is a good idea."

"But all the way back to Benzar?" Miner looked at him. "That's how many bazillion light years away. We haven't even told Phoenix that we escaped!"

Hitchcock looked at her with an awed expression on his face. "Why haven't we told Phoenix yet?"

"I don't know," Miner replied with an annoyed edge to her voice. "I just work here." She whipped her ponytail around in frustration.

"Nice attitude coming from the warrior that was beating on the console just a second ago."

"Why don't _you_ ask the Lieutenant when he comes back?"

"That's not my place Ensign," Hitchcock remarked shaking his head.

"What's that mean?" she questioned him.

"I'm enlisted. He's an officer. A dumb officer, but an officer all the same," he replied with a smirk. "I just follow orders."

"Really? What happened to your warrior mentality?" she asked him. "You don't have any problem questioning me."

"That's different, we're friends! I'm not questioning you …" he paused looking for the right word. "I'm challenging you and your thought process. If you gave me an order, I'd follow it….knowing that you had good reason for it and if I thought it was off base I wouldn't be afraid to speak up…unlike some other people around here."

Miner pursed her lips. "I'm not afraid to question Keller," she muttered being sassy. Just as she said it, the turbolift door opened and Lieutenant Keller stepped out carrying three bags of emergency rations.

"Anyone hungry?" he asked walking over to the Captain's chair. He handed Hitchcock and Miner each a bag.

"Oh, emergency rations, my favorite." Hitchcock replied sarcastically. He glanced over at Miner and winked. "Ensign Miner, didn't you have a question for the Lieutenant?"

"Ensign?" Keller asked glancing in her direction

"I ah ….." she glared at Hitchcock as she stammered over her words. "Shouldn't I send Phoenix a message regarding our status, sir?"

"You haven't done that yet?" Keller asked her quizzically.

"No, sir. Earlier you told me to not too," she replied darting her eyes between Keller and Hitchcock.

"I did_?_ Crap! Yeah, Phoenix needs to know that we successfully escaped," he remarked as he chided himself mentally. There was a reason he wasn't on the command track and here was a perfect example of it. He could manage a team or a project, but running the ship was completely different animal. He wasn't good at strategic thinking.

"And while we're on the topic, sir," Miner continued suddenly feeling extremely brave. "Why are we running all the way back to the Benzar system? Shouldn't we just find an asteroid field or moon to hide behind until Phoenix comes to us?"

"Those were Commander Sadek's orders Ensign," Keller replied.

"With due respect sir, Commander Sadek is unconscious in sick bay right now," Miner replied. "We don't even know if he's going to make it. We have people on the surface of one of these planets and we should be doing everything we can to try to find them or at least narrow down their location before Phoenix gets here. It will make rescuing them easier."

"How do you suggest we do that Ensign?" Keller asked. "We can't go back to the area of the nebula."

"Have Rios question the guards," she suggested. "I had the UT lock on to their language."

Keller was quiet as he contemplated his options. Miner was right. It was stupid to fly so far away from the planet cluster. Keller had even questioned it with Sadek when he gave him the order the previous night, but Sadek's orders were firm. _Now he's in sickbay with a suspicious phaser wound, _Keller pondered sitting down in the Captain's chair. _Perhaps Sadek intended to leave the Captain and crew on the surface for a reason….payback for her screwing the pooch? Maybe I should run that past Alvarez and see what he thinks, _he thought to himself. _Maybe the Chief should be the ones making the decision instead of me. _

"Maintain our current heading crewman," he said, finally breaking the silence. "Ensign Miner send a message to the Phoenix advising of our situation." Keller stood from the chair and walked to the turbolift. "I'll be in engineering."

Hitchcock watched Miner swing in her chair at the tactical station and listened for the lift door to shut. "Betcha fifty bucks he's going down to engineering to ask the Chief for his opinion," he chuckled taking a bit of the energy bar from his rations.

"Maybe the wrong guy is in charge around here," Miner mumbled. She stood up and crossed the bridge heading toward the comm station.

"More concerned about bringing us lunch than steering the boat?" Hitchcock chuckled. "Like I said, he's dumb officer."

00-00

Chief Alvarez pulled himself through the dusty electronics shaft that ran behind the power grid. The humming of the relays should have been music to his ears, but something was out of sync which caused it to sound more like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

"Ah ha!" he mumbled when he spotted a whiff of smoke just out of the corner of his eye. He pulled his communicator from his pocket and flipped it open. "Lip, cut the power to junction …." Alvarez squinted and pointed his flashlight to the panel above his head. "Junction seven niner one, section seventeen alpha."

"It's off Chief," the ensign replied after a second.

_It better be or I'm going to be one fried chalupa, _Alvarez thought as he stuck the spanner into the relay. He completed the repair in a few minutes and signaled Ensign Lippert to reconnect the power to the junction. "Wait a minute or two and let me know if it's any better," Alvarez said laying flat on his back. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _This might be the last catnap I'm going to get for a while, _he thought relaxing for the first time in days. Just when he was getting comfortable his communicator chirped.

"Chief, I'm still reading power fluctuations across the grid," Ensign Lippert said.

"What? That doesn't make any sense," Alvarez grumbled into the open line. "The only way we can have failures across the grid is if something was ….." Alvarez stopped talking for a moment. He listened to the sounds around him. _What is that clinking noise? _Freddie turned his head and concentrated on the sound. _It sounds like someone is dinking with the relays ….but if they aren't in here, where the frick are they? _

"Chief?"

_Oh frick! _Alvarez thought as he dropped the communicator. He picked it back up and fumbled to open the channel. "Lip, stand by! Alvarez to Rios!" he yelled out.

"Rios here."

"Check on the prisoners! I think they are messing with the power grid!" The line went dead as Alvarez waited for a response from the security crew. Two crewmen were watching the cargo bay where the prisoners were being held, so they should be able to give an answer rather quickly. _In theory anyway, _Alvarez thought. _Whose fricken idea was it to put them in the cargo bay anyway? I mean, the cargo bay would have been fine, if someone was actually in the room with them. _Alvarez cursed under his breath. The lack of response was getting him more upset by the minute and he keyed the talk button on the device.

"Alvarez to Rios." There was no answer. After fifteen seconds, he called again. "Alvarez to Security." Not receiving any answer he started to shimmy down the crawl space. He screamed into the communicator one final time. "Alvarez to Lippert!"

"Go ahead."

"Get down to the cargo bay and find out what the hell is going on!" He snapped the communicator shut and shoved it into his pant pocket. An agonizing minute later Alvarez crawled out of the conduit. Before he could stand up, Ensign Miner called him on the ship-wide comm.

"Bridge to Chief Alvarez."

Freddie walked to the nearest panel and pushed the talk button. "Alvarez."

"Sir, sensors indicate cargo bay four has depressurized. Emergency bulkheads are in place. We're dropping out of warp to come about."

_Geezuskrice! _Freddie thought wiping his brow. _The fricken prisoners! _"Miner run a sweep of the comm system to make sure they didn't get a message out!"

"Aye sir," Ensign Miner replied flatly.

"Alvarez to Lippert report!"

"Rios was injured when the emergency bulk heads dropped, Nieto and I are taking him to sickbay. We lost Lieutenant Keller and Crewman Bell," Lippert huffed into the communicator.

_What the frick was Keller doing down there? _Alvarez thought as he stared at the wall. For a moment he didn't know what to do and then turned on his heel and headed back to Engineering.

"Bridge to Chief Alvarez."

Freddie rolled his eyes and dug the communicator out of his pocket. _Now what? _"Alvarez."

"Chief, Captain Tucker from Phoenix is on sub-space."

"Why are you telling me this?" Freddie growled into the communicator.

"Maybe I misunderstood, I thought Ensign Lippert reported Lieutenant Keller was lost when the cargo bay depressurized," Miner questioned from the bridge.

"Thanks correct," Freddie replied walking back to engineering.

"So ….ah…. don't you want to talk to the Captain Chief?"

Freddie gritted his teeth in frustration. "I'm not the senior officer on the deck Ensign! If I'm not mistaken that honor currently falls into your lap!"

There was dead silence for a second before the comm line crackled open. "Chief, I don't know what to tell him," Miner answered.

Freddie could hear a tinge of apprehension in her voice. _Why the frick did I get left on the ship with all the jail-bait scaredie-cat officers? _He took a deep breath. "Route him to Engineering Ensign," he replied tersely. He ran down the corridor to get the call. _First the Commander purposely tries to kill himself and fails. Then our fearful and paranoid Lieutenant gets himself killed trying to be the hero. What's next? I get promoted to Captain? God help me, if we ever make it back to earth I'm leaving Starfleet to be a greeter at Walmart. _

00-00

His scent lingered around her. The sensation of his fingers caressing her skin rippled across her nerves. He brought her peace in a moment of uncertainty. He understood her needs and placed them before his own. She lay on the bunk facing the wall as the darkness hugged her body. Nothing she did stopped the wetness on her cheeks or the emotions that raged through her.

_He shouldn't have come. _The words echoed in her mind. The damage was done. Her will to fight and survive was shattered. Her obligations … the deals that were struck that allowed their life within the prison walls sickened her. A task that once meant nothing to her was now constant reminder of her vow to him, _to be true only to him. _He understood as he was in the same place and faced the same obstacles as her. Yet the betrayal she felt still burned within her.

Ensign Morgan sat up on her bunk and stared blindly across the room, allowing her eyes to adjust to what little light came in from the corridor. Ichara was asleep on the bunk next to her. Across the room lay a new problem. Obligated by her profession, Kelly was compelled to care for and treat this injured person. Even Trey, finishing his final requirements as a doctor, would be driven to provide care in order to sustain life. She was one of their own, a fellow crewman from Columbia. Every life that was left was precious to them, increased their numbers and fortified themselves against their captors.

The newcomer in her cell was _the_ reason Shavu arranged for Trey to be brought to her. She needed advanced medical care, more than Kelly could provide. The ensign had convinced the guard that Trey could do so much more for her that she could, he was doctor by trade, yet in the end, Kelly hadn't told him. She couldn't, not after what he had said, not after she heard the anger and contempt in his voice. Kelly was angry as well, but letting this person die here wouldn't bring her any comfort.

A low moan captured her attention. Kelly crawled off her bunk and closed the gap to the other bed. She sat down on the edge and ran the medical scanner that Shavu had given her over the woman's body. Ensign Morgan could barely read the display, but the results didn't look good. _Damn, why didn't I tell Trey to come, _she cursed. She felt the woman's arm move against her leg and she reached down and picked up her hand, intertwining her fingers around the cold skin of her crewman. Another moan grumbled in the throat of the woman and her eyelids flickered open to the darkness.

"Captain," Kelly whispered leaning close to her ear. "It's okay. You're safe," she said trying to sound reassuringly. "It's Ensign Morgan." Kelly squeezed her hand and picked up a cloth to wipe the sweat from the Captain's brow.

"Ensign? Where are…." Hernandez's voice trailed off, her breathing labored.

"In a prison camp," Kelly told her quietly, dabbing her forehead with the cloth. Her skin was hot to the touch. Kelly ran the scanner over her again and stared at the display trying to decode the readings. _Frick! _Kelly cursed. Anger barely explained the emotions she held. She reached under the bunk and pulled out the medical supplies the guard had brought earlier. _She's dying. I hate her and she's dying but I'm damn sure I'm not going to give her the luxury of dying here. She's going to have to suffer through this just like the rest of us. My poetic justice will be that she lives with her actions for the rest of her life. _

_tbc_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The alarm on the chronometer bleeped incisively above his head until he finally mustered the strength to raise his arm and slap the snooze button. _Nine more minutes, _the words formed in his brain as his body fought to remain asleep. He rolled over, nestling into the warmth of the covers and reached his hand out to her, to the spot she had been curled into earlier. His hand found nothing but the sheet.

Disoriented, he lifted his head and squinted at the empty space next to him. _When did she get up? _he thought shaking out the cobwebs. He took a couple of deep breaths and focused his eyes on the pillow, taking advantage of the stillness of the room before the alarm went off again. The solitude only lasted a moment. The first sound he heard was the toilet flushing. The second was retching over the empty bowl. He scrambled off the bed just as the bleep of the alarm began. He leaned over, deactivated it, and then hustled into the latrine to help his mate.

He found her hunched over the toilet coughing relentlessly. Turning on the sink, he ran a washcloth under the water until it was soaked and then wrung the water out and shut off the faucet. He knelt at her side and held the wet cloth against the back of her neck, pulling her hair out of her face. Sweat covered her brow and her skin was flushed, but her body trembled as the nausea rattled through it. He reached over to the linen cabinet and pulled a towel from it. As he wrapped it around her small frame, he felt her go limp in his arms.

"Hey," he whispered wrapping his arms around her. "It's okay. I got you." He held her wordlessly for several minutes until her trembling subsided. "You know, for someone who isn't supposed to be sick, you seem pretty sick to me," he said. "Maybe you need to see the doctor. I can get him to make a house call."

"I'm not sick," she replied weakly. "It's just a little nausea." She pushed away from him and tried to stand up. She was wobbly and he steadied her before she fell.

"I might be wrong, but nausea _is_ one of the chief complaints for being sick," he eyed her carefully. "Maybe you really did catch the flu."

"It's not the flu," she replied. She took her toothbrush out of the cabinet and smeared some toothpaste on it.

"What else could it be?" He asked completely confused. "There aren't a lot of reasons for throwing up everyday, unless…you're bulimic."

"I'm not bulimic," she answered rolling her eyes.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm pregnant Shane," Birdie replied flatly. She stuck the toothbrush in her mouth without looking at him and began to brush her teeth.

"You're what?" He mumbled as his jaw hit the floor. "You're preg…." McCann's mouth suddenly felt like it was packed with a hundred cotton balls. "How ah…"

Birdie glanced sideways at him and smirked at his reaction. "Aghhuzn't on ertonnal," she replied with the toothbrush stuck in her mouth.

"What?" he stammered out with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Aghuzn't…"

"I got it!" he said a little too loudly. Shane ran his hand over his brow nervously. "Why the hell weren't you on birth control? I thought that was SOP for females before going out into space?" he blurted out trying to process her words.

Birdie took a drink of water and swooshed it around in her mouth before spitting it out in the sink. "I could ask you the same thing Mr. Know-It -All! Starfleet doesn't force women _or men _to use birth control on missions. It's strongly recommended," she replied matter-of-factly. "I didn't see the need for it."

"Why not?"

"Because I wasn't in a relationship and I had no intentions of screwing anyone," Birdie replied splashing some water on her face. "I'm a senior officer. I wasn't planning to be sleeping with any subordinates."

"You slept with me."

"We didn't _sleep_ together that first night," she reminded him. She stepped around him and activated the shower. "You attacked me."

"You didn't resist."

She pulled her pajamas off and threw them in the hamper. Birdie stood in front of him completely naked. "And you could have been more careful," she replied in a low voice.

The voice got to him, the soft sultry voice of hers. His eyes traced the full length of her body and before he knew what he was doing, had scooped her up in his arms and pinned her up against the bulkhead. "You're pregnant?" he whispered in her ear. He caught her lips with his and kissed her passionately. He pressed her body against his and ran his hand over her rear. "With my child?" he added when he finally broke their connection.

She leaned her head back and looked up at him. "Yes," she whispered breathlessly.

He held her close and rested his forehead against hers as a gamut of emotions rolled over him. _I'm happy, right? She's the love of my life, the only woman that has ever tamed me. I just didn't think we'd be having another… or at least not this soon. This completely screws up everything! I can't be a first officer and a dad! Frick I should have been more careful. _He lifted his head and kissed her again. "Can I join you in the shower?" he asked not knowing what else to say.

"Sure," she replied looking at him with a curious expression. "You're pissed aren't you?"

"No," he answered holding her gaze. "I'm just…" He sighed heavily. "Surprised." _Really surprised, _he thought letting her slide back down to the floor. _It's not even zero six hundred hours and that was enough of a surprise to last me for a week. _

00-00

Trip walked through the door of his stateroom and set their luggage on the floor. "I think I got everything," he called out to T'Pol. "I threw the bath towels and the sheets in our hamper."

"You mean, your hamper," she corrected him from the bathroom.

"I have to wash them?" he asked rolling his eyes. He walked into the bathroom and leaned on the door frame. "Are you sure you're ready to go back to work? You can take a few more days off to rest."

"I've rested enough," T'Pol replied glancing at him as she fussed with her hair. After a couple of seconds, she noticed he was still staring at her. "What?"

"I was just wondering," He began to say.

"No," T'Pol interrupted.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," he said crossing his arms at this chest.

"I am not pregnant," T'Pol said turning to face him.

"That's not what I was going to ask," Trip argued. "But since you brought it up, how do you know that you aren't? Maybe it doesn't happen right away."

"Trip, I'm Vulcan," T'Pol said setting her brush down on the edge of the sink. "I can sense changes in my body." She walked toward him and reached to fasten the eyelet hook on his uniform.

"Well maybe we'll be surprised," he remarked looking down at her. Once it was hooked, she stepped back from him. "I think this jacket shrunk in the wash." He said twisting his neck and pulling at the collar.

"Doubtful. I think you need to cut back on the sweets," she replied sarcastically. She walked out of the bathroom and headed through the pocket door that led to her quarters.

"No, it's not that. I have five uniforms. Four fit perfectly," Trip said defensively following her. "This is the only one that chokes me. It has nothing to do with how much I do or don't eat." He glanced over at the chronometer. "Eleven hundred hours. Feels weird to be starting the day so late."

"You could have gotten up earlier," T'Pol said unpacking her bag. "If I remember correctly, you moaned all morning about how the skin off your _dick _had rubbed off."

Trip chuckled at her statement and the way she said it. "That's not exactly how I said it," he laughed. "I just was curious how vulcan men sustain their erections for extended periods of time."

"I don't remember you having any problems," she replied.

"Yeah, thanks to Solon," Trip commented. "The man's a genius!"

"Bridge to Captain Tucker," a male voice called through the ship wide comm system.

Trip backed out of the bathroom and walked through the pocket door to answer the comm in his quarters. "Tucker here."

"Captain, we have an incoming transmission from Columbia."

"Route it to the ready room, Corporal. I'll be up in a moment." Trip looked up at T'Pol who was standing in the doorway.

"Aye sir," the Corporal replied cutting the comm.

"Delta shift?" T'Pol asked as he stepped back into the doorway.

"Delta, Beta, Gamma," Tucker chuckled. "Since Catch dinked up the schedule I barely know whose coming or going. That, however, was Corporal Hemmer," he said inclining his head toward the comm panel.

"I haven't heard any complaints about the new schedule," T'Pol replied. "The crew seems to like it. Morale and efficiency ratings are up across the ship."

"I know. It has its advantages," Trip answered. "I just need to adjust." He leaned over, kissed her, and then touched his fingers to hers. "You ready to go?"

"Yes, Th'y'la."

00-00

CDR Stu Rybaiski sat on the biobed and waited impatiently for someone to clear him to return to duty. Finally, after what seemed like twenty minutes Solon walked over to him and scanned him with the tricorder.

"Commander," the Vulcan greeted him without looking up. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel the same that I did two days ago," Rybaiski smarted off to him.

"Which would be what?"

"Fine!" Rybaiski replied with an annoyed tone. "I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me."

Solon stopped his scan and looked at the officer in front of him. "Your scan indicates you have a headache and a slight fever."

"I don't feel like I have a headache," Stu protested rubbing his hand across his brow. He rested his arms on the side of the bed. "Come on, just release me for work. If I have to go back to my room for another day I'm going to go postal."

Solon ignored the Commander's comments and stepped over to the work bar to retrieve a hypospray. He walked back to the biobed and attempted to push the instrument against Rybaiski's neck. The commander pushed him away.

"Whoa," Rybaiski asked leaning back out of Solon's reach. "Wha… what'd'ya think you're doing?" He gave Solon a crazed look.

Solon halted his approach with the hypo leaving his hand in mid air. He sighed heavily. "This is just an analgesic for your headache Commander," he explained. He retracted his arm when Rybaiski shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm not falling for that again," he argued. "McCann did that to me the other day and then gave me some tranquilizer that knocked me out for two days." He held up his hand in protest. "I can just deal with this mythical headache and fever on my own if you don't mind."

"Have it your way," Solon replied typing notes into the scanner regarding Rybaiski's condition.

"So, is that it?" Rybaiski asked the doctor quizzically.

"Is what it?" Solon replied antagonizing the man on purpose. He walked over to the work bar and uploaded his notes.

"Am I released for work?"

"Yes, you can return to duty," Solon remarked. "If your headache continues to bother you, please return for treatment."

"Thanks doc," Rybaiski replied jumping off the biobed. "I don't have a headache. I'll be in engineering if anyone is looking for me."

Rybaiski headed out of sickbay and walked to the turbolift that would take him to Engineering. As he waited for the lift, he pulled his PADD out of his utility pocket and started to scroll through his email. _Agh, _he growled at the first message. _Senior staff meeting at sixteen hundred. What time is it now? _he thought looking at the chronometer. The turbolift door opened, he stepped in and pushed the button for deck nine. _Thirteen Thirty. That gives me a couple hours to get up to speed with Demps. _

When the lift stopped, Rybaiski stepped out and veered around fellow crew members as he walked down the hall to his office. He opened the hatch to engineering and stepped in. He took a deep breath, sucking in the smells of the room … the engine, plasma bi-products and the grime that have come to define Engineering. "Hmmm, nothing like the sweet smell of home," he mumbled heading for his office. He walked around the corner blind and ran head on into Lieutenant Dempsey.

"Whoa," Rybaiski said as he crashed into the Andorian. His PADD clattered to the floor. "Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.

"Commander, I wasn't expecting you down here today," Dempsey replied stepping back from him. "You've been released for duty?" he asked leaning over to pick up the PADD.

"Yes," Rybaiski retorted. "There's nothing wrong with me. I didn't have the so-called flu bug." He took the PADD back from the Lieutenant and continued to his office.

"Really? I heard a couple of people were still sick." Dempsey commented following him. "Sgt Montag is really sick, throwing up, fever, chills, diarrhea, and the whole thing."

"Sgt Montag?" Rybaiski said looking back at Dempsey. "Really?" Stu walked into his office and sat down at the desk. _Mel's sick? _he thought staring at his computer.

"The same for Colonel Lynch," Dempsey remarked following him in. "I had breakfast with Corporal Kuhlie. Apparently the Colonel has it bad."

"The Colonel?" Rybaiski muttered running his hand across his brow. "They're both still sick?" He set his PADD on the desktop. "Maybe it only affects women," he replied shrugging his shoulders.

"Ugh, I don't know …. Sullivan spent the last two nights in sickbay," Dempsey said flatly, getting in the last word.

"Ensign Sullivan?" Rybaiski questioned. _Sully had to sleep in sickbay? _Rybaiski rolled his eyes and looked over at the Andorian. "And exactly how do you know all of this?"

"Scuttlebutt," Dempsey said leaning against the door jam.

"Right …because scuttlebutt is always correct?" he sighed heavily. "Well, I'm not sick. I rarely get sick. In fact, I've spent more time in sick bay on this cruise than I have in my entire Starfleet career."

"Because you were sick!" Dempsey replied.

"No, because that crazy lil slave girl kicked the shit out of me," he said ruefully. "Anyway, where are we with the warp issue? I have some ideas…."

"It's all taken care of," Dempsey interrupted him. "I have a team working on it as we speak." He walked over to the desk and punched some codes into the computer keyboard.

"Wha? What'd'ya mean it's taken care of?" Rybaiski asked watching what Dempsey was doing to the computer. "You figured out the problem?"

"McCann did," Dempsey said as he brought McCann's schematic of the spoiler up on Rybaiski's computer.

"McCann? The doctor or the commander?" Rybaiski asked cautiously.

"The Commander," Dempsey replied flatly. "Come to think about it … it was a great idea actually."

"Commander McCann, _Mr. World's Best Security Officer_, solved our warp problem?" Stu asked in disbelief. _There's no fricken way! The guy is an idiot! _"Since when is he the engineering expert?"

"Sometimes its better to take the common man approach," Dempsey replied firmly. "Here … look at the schematic." Dempsey pointed at the screen. "I have two teams working on it; we're running a proto-type simulation and will be able to build the spoiler by tomorrow at the latest."

Rybaiski stared at the computer with an awed expression on his face. The idea seemed sound, equalize the weight of the saucer with something that created down force. _But McCann? My arch nemesis? _Rybaiski suddenly felt his stomach lurch and he became very hot. "Excuse me," he said to Dempsey getting up from the chair quickly. "I need to get some air."

00-00

Captain Tucker paced around the command center as T'Pol, Commander McCann, Doctor McCann and Lieutenant Morgan Montag, the psychologist on the medical team reviewed the security footage that Chief Alvarez had provided regarding Commander Sadek's suspicious injury.

Lieutenant Montag was Sergeant Montag's older sister. Their family resemblance was strong but personality wise they were different people. Morgan was independent, resourceful and successful, but as the oldest in her family she was approachable and a listener. Morgan left the private sector to take part in this pilot program with Starfleet. Tucker was sure she was going to prove her worth on this mission.

"Well?" Tucker prompted when the footage had completed its loop. "What's your professional analysis?"

"That definitely looks like a suicide attempt to me," Lieutenant Montag replied.

"It's amazing he's still alive," Catch commented looking back at Tucker.

Dr. McCann looked up from the medical data. "If you can call his current condition alive," he said ruefully. "There is barely any brainwave activity on the monitor."

"Perhaps he had a moment of hesitation," T'Pol remarked still reviewing the security data. "According to the report his weapon was on stun."

"Maybe he's just a bad shot," Catch mumbled leaning over the table on his elbows. "At point blank range, a shot to the head should have killed him...regardless if it was on stun or not. Any clues from Alvarez?" Catch asked watching T'Pol replay the footage.

Tucker sighed and tried to put the whole incident in perspective. "The Captain had put Commander Sadek in the brig for mutiny. The Anoree left him there for the first five days. During that time, Alvarez and Lieutenant Keller had rallied the group together and started working on an escape plan. When Sadek was released, most of the crew complained to the Chief that he seemed … aloof." Trip leaned against the work bar. "Alvarez said after all teams reported clear, no one could raise Sadek on his communicator. Lieutenant Keller went looking for him and found him unconscious in the corridor."

"I thought you said Lieutenant Keller was killed?" Montag questioned Tucker.

"During the guard's escape attempt," Tucker clarified to Montag. "They jury-rigged the wiring in the cargo bay and blew the outside hatch. Keller and another crewman had just entered the bay when the hatch opened. He and the Anoree were blown into space."

"The other crewman?" Montag asked.

"Killed when the bay decompressed," Trip replied.

"Why would the guards blow the outside hatch?" Zack asked with a perplexed expression on his face. "Do you think they were committing some type of ritual suicide?"

"Unlikely," Catch interrupted. "They were probably confused which cargo bay they were in. Columbia has cargo bays on decks D, E and F. Some of the bays on D and F are on the interior side of the corridor. They look exactly like the bays on the exterior side."

"Ah," Zack commented when the light bulb went on. "So we're assuming they thought they were blowing a hatch that would lead to an interior corridor?"

"Right." Trip and Catch replied at the same time.

"The security footage seems to indicate that conclusion," T'Pol added from across the room.

"Is Chief Alvarez the highest ranking…" she stopped short and shook her head as she read his service record.

"Ensign Sandy Miner, the communications specialist, is the highest ranking officer, but she's only twenty months out of the academy," Trip replied. He leaned over and punched some buttons on a keyboard to display Alvarez's service record on the large monitor. "Alvarez has thirteen years experience in Starfleet, most of it in the field. The other five on the crew are a mixed bag, two ensigns and three enlisted. The ensigns fresh from OCS and neither are on the command track. The enlisted have a few years under their belts, two are engineering technicians, and the other is a steward and part-time medic." Trip looked around the room and watched his team take in the data.

"Who's flying the ship?" Dr. McCann mumbled as he looked up at the screen.

"Besides Alvarez, only one crewman has an aviator rating, Crewman Lee Hitchcock, engineering," Tucker said flipping the screen to show his service record. "As you can see, their resources are stretched pretty thin," he commented as his eyes settled on Montag. "Lieutenant Montag this is your show. How do you want to play it?"

Montag blushed slightly for being put on the spot. She glanced around the work bar at the officers in front of her. "The injured should be moved to Phoenix. I'd like to observe the remaining crew in their own environment and then meet with them individually to make an evaluation."

"We should relive them of duty for evaluation," Commander McCann interrupted.

"That's a bad idea," Dr. McCann retorted looking across the work bar.

"Storming Columbia and relieving the crew of duty would not serve any useful purpose," T'Pol contended looking toward McCann. "We are here to lend aide to Columbia and rescue the remaining crew, not commandeer their vessel."

"We're on a rescue mission Commander," Tucker said crossing his arms at his chest. "The crew has been through enough; let's not make it worse by giving them the impression that we don't trust them."

"I agree," Montag replied nodding her head. "With Solon's assistance I can make the evaluations quickly and release them back to duty."

"On their ship?" Catch questioned. He shook his head in disagreement. "We should integrate them into our crew. We can observe them easier if they are on Phoenix." He looked around the room noting the varying looks of the meeting participants. "This crew did attempt a mutiny," he added trying to back up his argument.

"There is no proof of a mutiny within the crew," T'Pol remarked.

"So Commander Sadek was placed in the brig for kicks?" Catch argued rolling his head on his neck and waving his hand around to make his point.

"If I'm not mistaken Commander Sadek was merely following the orders given to him by Starfleet Command," she replied.

"After he and other members of the senior staff made reports to Starfleet regarding the mental stability of the Captain," McCann reminded her. "Who's to say that it wasn't the Commander and the crew that were delusional? Sadek's failed suicide is proof enough," McCann said caustically.

"You're analogy is flawed Commander," T'Pol remarked evenly. "We are currently operating on speculation, not proof. Our orders are to rendezvous with Columbia to put the pieces of the puzzle together not to get caught up in what you call _scuttlebutt._" T'Pol jutted her lower jaw out and arched her eyebrow as she stared down Commander McCann

"Commander, I respect your opinion from a security stand point," Montag interrupted the thick air in the room. "However, mutiny or not, they need to go back to active duty on _their_ ship. It will give them a sense of ownership and accomplishment to actively take part in the rescue of the remaining crew."

"Keep your shirt on Commander," Tucker added from the other side of the table. "You'll have plenty of time to keep an eye on them. Once we make the rendezvous, T'Pol and you will lead the team to Columbia."

"What's Columbia's current location?" Catch asked quietly stewing on his stool. "Are they still enroute to Benzar?"

"No. They took position in an asteroid field three light years from here," Tucker replied pointing at a star cluster on the chart. "We'll be at their coordinates in forty eight hours. In the meantime, let's talk about the team assignments."

"Unless there are any objections, I suggest we take Lieutenants Dempsey, Ganzer and Roberts and Corporal Hemmer along as part of the command team," T'Pol paused a moment to listen for objections.

"Since I'm new to this…." Lieutenant Montag waved her hands around trying to name the operation. "Will I have access to personal logs and such?"

"Yes," Trip smiled trying to make her feel comfortable. "Commander McCann and Corporal Hemmer will be able to pull those for you. In this circumstance, there is no such thing as _personal_ logs. Everything is open to scrutiny."

"Is the ship damaged?" McCann asked.

Trip slid a PADD across the table to McCann. "The Anoree pecked away at the ship before they were boarded. I had Alvarez send a system analysis. This is what you're up against. Keep in mind their Chief Engineer was killed two months ago. When you're putting together your team, I'd suggest going deep on the Engineering side. Lieutenant Joell, Ensign Brinkley, Crewman Garcia, and Painter."

"Perhaps _you_ would like to lead the Columbia team," T'Pol suggested from across the table. The McCann brothers and Trip all noticed the slight twist to her upper lip. "You _are _the only engineer on board with NX experience."

Tucker looked up at the ceiling and chuckled. "Oh, yeah, I'd love that, get in there and get dirty. But I… ah....I don't think that would go over too well with Admiral Ford or Admiral Cooper," he replied sheepishly. "I'll just leave that it your capable hands." He winked at T'Pol.

"With that being said, perhaps we should bring the other team members up to speed on Columbia's status," T'Pol remarked looking around the room.

"Good idea," Trip said thinking it over. "But let's include the entire senior team in that meeting."

Catch butted in looking around the table. "I trust that we are going to keep some of Columbia's detail confidential."

Lieutenant Montag glared across the table at Commander McCann. "If you are worried about my discussing Commander Sadek's situation, I can assure you I understand the meaning of privileged conversations."

Trip could sense McCann's rebuttal and held up his hand. "There are many aspects of this mission that are privileged and fall under the C:Red classification. While there are other members of the senior team that have the appropriate security clearance, I expect anything we've discussed in this meeting to remain confidential." Trip looked around the table and settled his eyes specifically on Catch, knowing he would be the first to let Birdie in on the mission. "That's an order. Are we clear?" He listened to the acknowledgements in the room and held McCann's gaze for an extra moment. _What I wouldn't give for a little telepathy with him right now, _Trip said to T'Pol through their bond. "We'll reconvene in conference room zeta in fifteen minutes." Trip walked over to the comm panel and opened the ship wide communication link to repeat the request to the senior staff and send text messages to Lieutenant Ganzer, Roberts and Corporal Hemmer. He listened to the room empty behind him. When he was finished sending the message, he turned to leave and practically ran over T'Pol.

"Geezus," he muttered as he stumbled over her. "Sneaking up on me again?" He looked down at her and noticed an odd expression on her face that could only be described as concern. "What's wrong?"

"I thought you were going to assign Commander Rybaiski to assist me," T'Pol questioned him.

"I never said that," Trip replied towering over her. "Trying to anticipate my decisions again?"

"No. I was under the impression you wanted to see McCann in action," she remarked. "I am already familiar with his capabilities. You, on the other hand, are not."

"I think you are underestimating what I know about him," Trip replied. "I know he can run a security department, but thinking strategically to run a ship is a different story."

"He has commanded his own ship," T'Pol argued.

"Into the ground," Trip replied arching his brow. "That was the old Shane McCann. I want to see what the new improved version can do when the cards are stacked against him." He walked around her toward the door. "He needs to stop thinking like a department head and…"

"What is my role in this exercise?" T'Pol asked loudly catching his attention.

Her tone surprised him and he immediately had a flashback to Azati Prime when she was out of control due to the trellium in her system. _The pon farr is making her emotional, _he reminded himself as he turned to look at her. He watched her squirm and dart her eyes away from him in embarrassment. "Are you sure you don't need a couple days off? You seem a little…. out of sorts," he asked his mate. He caught her chin in his hand and pulled it up to look her in the eye.

"I…some of the effects of my condition are still in my system," T'Pol mumbled looking up at him. The sensation of his touch calmed her quickly. She held his gaze and realized he wasn't going for her excuse. "I'll meditate after the meeting."

"You'll tell me if…..and not try to hide it from me?" He asked her waving his hand at her body to make his point.

"I promise," T'Pol agreed. She reached out for his hand and intertwined her fingers with him. "Getting back to work will allow me to focus on something other than my body's changes."

"Changes? T'Pol if you even think that you are pregnant, I don't want you…"

"Trip, be reasonable. I told you I'm not pregnant." T'Pol looked at him completely annoyed by his badgering and struggling to keep it in check. "Would you honestly deny me the mission?"

Trip ran his tongue across his check and slumped in his stance. "Look, I need you on the top of your game, you'll be in command of Columbia," Trip said answering her question. "After you've assessed the situation, we'll need to put together a rescue plan. Their comm officer managed to run some scans before they escaped so we have some data to work with already. The sooner we start looking for Captain Hernandez and her crew, the more likely we are to find them alive."

"I will be ready, however I still question your choice to be the second in command," T'Pol said. "As I said earlier I'm familiar with his capabilities."

"Ah…I know you're familiar with how he manages when everything is running at standard. Things are far from standard on Columbia," Trip interrupted. "Besides I can't send Rybaiski and Dempsey to Columbia. One of them needs to stay here."

"Then don't send Dempsey," T'Pol argued.

"You picked him," Trip reminded her. "The team needs to stand as is for now. I trust your appraisal of McCann, besides, it's not like I won't know what is going on." He smiled and waved his index finger at his head. "Come on, fifteen minutes was up five minutes ago."

00-00

"Zack!" Catch yelled out as he jogged down the corridor to catch up with his brother. "Wait up."

The younger McCann turned to look at his older brother. "What?" he snapped impatiently.

"Why didn't you tell me about Birdie?" Catch asked in a low voice.

"Tell you what about Birdie?"

Catch tilted his head and glared at his brother. "Don't be dumb," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh, she finally told you?" Zack replied. "Congratulations brother."

"Yeah, thanks," Catch growled sarcastically leaning his arm against the wall. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't I tell you," Zack guffawed. "I believe that falls under doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I'm the first officer on the ship," Catch argued.

"So? You also have a personal interest in the Colonel," Zack replied flatly crossing his arms defiantly at his chest. "It wasn't my place to discuss it with you."

"But you told Captain Tucker?"

Zack sighed and shook his head. "What's your real problem about this? Are you afraid this baby is going to screw up your chances for command again?"

"No," Shane retorted. He pushed off the wall and paced around the corridor. "The timing isn't very…"

"When is the timing going to be good Shane?" Zack interrupted him sharply. "You could have taken steps to prevent this … you never updated your inhibitor injection when you came on board."

"I know!" he said a little louder than he expected. "I just wasn't …."

"Thinking about the consequences for other people?" Zack said and then chuckled. "That's a reoccurring theme in your life, always putting your personal goals first big brother."

"That's what you think I'm doing?" Catch asked him with an incredulous expression on his face.

"That's what you always do," Zack said flatly. "Let me guess, you're first reaction when she told you was … shit, this is really going to screw up my career? Huh?" Zack mocked him catching the knowing expression in his eye. "That's all you care about, your career! When we were kids and the neighborhood bullies were beating me up, all you cared about was your image. You should be thankful that God blessed you with another child, another miracle baby … to hell with your career!" Zack threw his hands up in the air and walked away from him. "Birdie deserves better than you! And she doesn't need you around to raise this baby!"

Shane watched his brother storm down the hallway and felt the stab of the reality hit him right in the chest. He walked down the corridor and turned the corner, into a pocket of air that smelled distinctively of his uncle's after-shave. He felt a heavy weight against his chest and a cool pocket of air swirl around his body. Catch slumped against the bulkhead as a wave of dizziness enveloped his senses.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Lieutenant Burrows felt the jab in his side and smelled the rotten breath in his face before he even opened his eyes. How he prayed it was a dream, but he knew the truth.

"Get up," the guard ordered jabbing him again when he didn't move fast enough.

"More tests?" Trey asked sitting up slowly. He squinted up at the guard he knew as Avu. The male's face was a blank slate.

"Something like that," the guard said motioning to the door. "Go," he said slapping the stun stick against the side of his leg.

"Okay, okay," Burrows mumbled standing up from the bunk. "Watch where you're waving that thing," he said trying to play it off as if he was concerned the guard was going to stun him. He walked into the hallway and followed the guard through the first set of security doors. Once he was in the hallway, he noticed it was still the middle of the night. "Mind telling me where you're taking me? It's still dark out," he asked motioning toward the end of the hall.

"Hands on your head," Avu ordered as the door closed behind them.

Burrows rolled his eyes at the non-answer but did as he was told. It had been thirty-six hours since his first meeting with Kelly and the guards had been true to their word, but he was still wary of trusting these …lizardish-people. He trailed behind the guard as they tracked though the maze of hallways that led to the depths of the compound. The two passed several guards and a gaggle of slave girls that were very interested in whatever Burrows was willing to offer. His escort chased them away with a threatening wave of his stun stick mumbling under his breath that they didn't have time for any activities.

The guard led Burrows through another set of security doors to a section of the compound that reminded Trey of a true prison block. The area was filled with cells with barred doors; a few had occupants sleeping on the bunks. The stale air was eerily quiet as they shuffled through the corridor. Burrows shuddered unconsciously as the atmosphere started to give him the creeps.

Avu stopped at a cell door at the end of the hall and the door slid open silently. "Go," he said gruffly pointing toward the interior.

_And do what? _Burrows thought as he stepped to the doorway. He scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Ensign Morgan sitting on one of the bunks. "Kelly?" he said, his voice practically a whisper.

"Shh," she said motioning for Burrows to enter the small room. She stepped around him and took something the guard handed to her before saying anything else. "I don't want to wake her, she just fell back to sleep."

"Wake who?" Burrows questioned just as Kelly flicked on a small light. He blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

00-00

Ensign Sandy Miner flicked her fingers across her keyboard out of boredom and looked at the chronometer at her station. "Four minutes later than the last time I checked," she mumbled aloud to no one. She was alone on the bridge and hadn't seen another of the Columbia crew for over four hours. Lippert was continuing repairs in Engineering. Battles was monitoring Commander Sadek. Hitchcock, Rios, Nieto and Alvarez had all hit the rack. Columbia was essentially parked in an asteroid field waiting patiently for the rendezvous with Phoenix.

The solitude of the bridge was a double-edged sword. While it afforded Sandy time to analyze the sensor data and extrapolate a search perimeter, the stillness was almost deafening. The lack of noise amplified every creak, groan and pop to the extent that she was freaking herself out and growing antsy. Miner could feel her stomach twisting into a knot and turned in her seat to stare at the sensor data. "Keep busy," she scolded herself as she brought the data up on the main viewer and started breaking it down again.

About an hour later, the bounce of her head bobbing off her chest and the whirl of the turbolift got her attention. Miner chided herself mentally as she straightened in her seat. _Real smart ensign,_she cursed in her head as she thought of the nine hundred things that could have happened to the ship while she napped on the bridge. "That's what court-martials are made of," she muttered under her breath just as the lift door slid open.

"Report!" Hitchcock barked as he stepped out of the lift.

"Huh?" Miner half grunted half yawned as she watched the crewman saunter across the bridge as if she was viewing it on television.

Hitchcock laughed heartily as he walked over to the captain's chair and slumped into it. "I've always wanted to say that," he chuckled. "This feels nice," he added looking in her direction. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah, I'm awake," she slurred blinking several times. . She straightened in her seat trying to play it off that she hadn't just fallen asleep at her post.

"Right," he answered slowly nodding his head. "Barely. Why don't you go take a nap? I've got bridge watch for the next five hours," Hitchcock suggested.

"I need to get through this data," she mumbled struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Uh huh," He stood up from the captain's chair and walked over to her workstation. Hitchcock put his hands on Miner's shoulders and directed her to stand up. "I'm perfectly capable of reading a star chart Ensign."

"You can't force me off the bridge crewman," Miner protested unconvincingly. "I'm the ranking officer on this ship." She let him help her stand and corral her toward the door. She wasn't about to argue, not today, not even this week. Her whole body ached. Exhaustion barely even described her symptoms.

"I'm not forcing you," he chuckled as he walked behind her toward the door. "Do you feel like you're being forced? Because you're walking to the lift all on your own." He pushed the button on the lift to make the door slide open. "Snuggle in your warm, soft bed for a couple of hours, take a long hot shower, put on a fresh uniform, get some emergency rations in your system," he rattled off a list as he pushed her into the car. "You'll be amazed at how refreshed you'll feel."

Sandy slumped against the back wall of the lift and stared at her friend. "Hitch, can you give me a wake up call in three hours?" she finally conceded.

"Nope," he replied shaking his head. "I've been ordered not to listen to any of your whining and _check on _you in no less than four hours."

"By who?"

"Ensign Lippert and Chief Alvarez," he replied with a gloating tone.

"Lippert? I out rank him!" Miner protested.

"Not anymore …. You've been relieved ma'm," Hitchcock chuckled sadistically keyed the door to shut.

"Ma'm?" Sandy mumbled as she felt the lift start to move. "Now I know I've lost it. The ship was evaded by aliens, the crew abducted; we're parked in an asteroid field eating the same emergency rations morning noon and night and a crewman with three years experience on me just told me to take a nap." She closed her eyes as she slumped against the wall. "A nap isn't going to cut it."

00-00

Lieutenant Burrows stood from the side of the cot and ran his hand over the eighteen days growth of beard. He looked down at the scanner in his hand and swore under his breath at the results. If he was on Columbia, he'd have his patient stuffed into the imaging chamber and pumped full of drugs to jump-start the healing process before anyone could blink. The reality was, he wasn't on Columbia and the little medical supplies the guard had given him weren't going to keep his patient alive for long.

Trey leaned over the bed and pressed the back of his palm to Captain Hernandez's forehead. The physical contact did little more than the scanner to tell him that she was burning up. He picked a rag up from the side of the bed and dipped it in the bowl of water that Ensign Morgan's cellmate had brought him. Burrows dabbed the moist cloth over Hernandez's face and neck, trying to do what he could to try to cool her down.

It wasn't just Hernandez's blood that was boiling, as Burrows conscious waged its own silent battle. _Every action had an equal and opposite reaction, physics one oh one, _It was clear the laws of physics were a universal concept, even in prison. For every good deed that occurred, penance was enacted. Burrows could stay in the cell and treat Hernandez to the best of his ability as long as the guard could have his way with Kelly.

Trey shuddered at the thought of whatever Kelly was being forced to endure. He saw the expression on her face as Avu led her away. Her face was covered with fear and defeat and he knew she was just giving in because fighting back was too hard. Kelly had told him the guard was impotent, but Burrows was suspicious. Something about the look in his eye, the sadistic enjoyment that brewed just beneath the surface. The thought sickened Trey to his core and fueled the hatred bubbling just below the surface. This place had changed him, hardened him to the realities of life and the injustices suffered by those around him. It was easy to be indifferent before he found out that Kelly was still alive ... now the playing field had changed completely.

The door slid open and pulled him from his reverie. He looked up and saw Ensign Morgan standing in the doorway. A mixture of relief and anger flushed over him all at once and for a moment the lieutenant didn't know how to process his emotions. He caught Kelly motioning for him to step in the corridor and he walked out of the small room to talk to her.

"How is she?" Kelly whispered as she peered into the dimly lit room.

"How long has she been like that?" he questioned not really wanting to know the answer. He eyed the ensign carefully and notice a couple of new marks on her neck.

"Shavu brought her to my cell two days ago," Kelly replied.

"Two days ago?" Burrows retorted sharply, turning to stare at her. The emotion burned in his throat. "And you're just now asking for me to treat her?"

"Yeah."

"Why the hell did you wait so long?" Trey barked dropping his hands to his side in frustration. He was barely able to keep a lid on his emotions. Whatever the guards were doing to Kelly and now the injuries to the Captain was all taking it's toll on him.

"I thought …. You said you wanted her dead," Kelly argued as her face flushed in embarrassment.

"I sai…yeah, I said that, but I didn't mean it! Geezus Kelly!"

"How the hell was I supposed to know that you weren't serious?" Kelly threw her hands up in frustration. "Sorry that I can't read between the lines!"

Burrows felt his whole body start to tremble but was unable to pinpoint the exact cause. He could see the guard standing behind them with a smug grin on his face. Kelly stood in front of him with a glaring look in her eye. Her cellmate was resting on the bunk and his nemesis was half dead on the cot just inside the cell. He sighed loudly and ran his hand over his head. "Sorry," he mumbled turning to rest his head on the wall. The cool cement block was hardly any comfort to him.

"Can you help her?" Kelly asked tentatively.

"Doubtful," he said without moving his head. "She needs to be treated in a medical facility."

"I don't think that's an option right now Trey," she blurted out. "If Ichara hadn't spotted her and Shavu hadn't brought her here, she'd still be in that lab and considering her injuries … she'd probably be dead!"

Her sharp words hit a nerve with Trey and set him off. He snapped and was on her in seconds. "I don't need you telling me the obvious Ensign!" he screamed right in her face. "It is clear to me that she is near death and quite frankly she would probably be better off dead because now she is going to have to suffer horribly like the rest of us in this shit-hole! So in the future when you think you are doing someone a favor…keep your fricken mouth shut …Agh!"

A sizzle to his side and a sharp pain rattling his nerve endings dropped Burrows to his knees. His head felt like it was going to explode and before he could even react, he was backhanded and punched a couple of times by the guard. Trey doubled over and gasped for breath as he tried to figure out a way to move his arms without feeling another bout of searing pain behind his eyes.

"What was that for?" he finally spat out as he glared up at the guard.

"You talk too much and with disrespect," the guard snarled as he towered over Burrows head.

"Oh, like you have any respect…for anything? You rape Kelly and Ichara everyday, probably several times a day!" Trey braced himself for the punishment as another jolt from the stun stick flooded his senses and his jaw took the brunt of another blow.

"Avu stop!" Kelly pleaded from somewhere behind Burrows.

"In the cell," Avu snapped in her direction.

Trey heard her light footfall retreat into the cell and the door slide securely shut. He relaxed his body defensively and waiting for the next blow.

"Get up!" Avu ordered as he grabbed Burrows by the scruff of the neck. Once he was standing, the guard forced him down the hall into a room smaller than Ensign Morgan's cell. Avu shoved Burrows to the floor on his knees and ordered him to put his hands on his head. The guard paced around the lieutenant in a slow deafening circle.

"I do not rape Kelly as you think. I do not force Kelly to do anything," the guard said slowly and deliberately. "She makes her choices of her own free will."

"She's in a prison. What type of free will is that?" Trey questioned. He knew the consequences of his action may lead to his death, but at this point, he just didn't care.

"She has chosen life," the guard hissed in Burrows ear. "With life there are sacrifices."

"On our world we don't make sacrifices to live," Trey retorted trying to move his head away from the stale breath of the guard.

"That's not what Kelly has told me," the guard remarked trailing his hand across the back of Burrows' neck. "She said give and take is part of your every day life. She wants nothing more than to go home and live on your planet Earth, but stays in the military to appease her commanding officers."

Trey swallowed hard at his words. He found it odd that she would confide in this stranger when she would barely tell him how she really felt. He knew it was true that Kelly wanted to go home to Earth. He also knew that she didn't because she didn't want to let anyone down, not Dr. Brackett, or the Captain or even Professor Ajoy. However, she had never told him those things; he had just figured it out during their time together and her cryptic little clues. _What else has she told him, _he wondered as he felt the guard's fingernail running across his bare skin. He shivered at the contact.

"What are you willing to sacrifice to live Lieutenant?" Avu said as he stopped pacing in front of him.

Trey peered up at the lizard-like man and downed a shit-eating grin. "Since you can't kill me anymore, I guess I'm not going to sacrifice anything."

"That is unfortunate for you," Avu replied flatly as the door to the cell opened.

Trey heard the shuffle of feet behind him and turned toward the door. Two guards that he had never seen before entered the room and the door slid shut behind them. _Oh shit, _Trey thought as he felt his wrist being secured in a restraint. _So much for not sacrificing anything. _

00-00

"Bridge to Alvarez."

"Alvarez here."

"Chief, I'm receiving a hail from Phoenix," Hitchcock informed him.

"So … answer it," Freddie replied, the tone riddled with sarcasm.

Hitchcock stared at his console and the blinking light from the communications board on his panel. "You want me to answer it?" he muttered aloud to the empty bridge. "And what? Order a pizza? I'm an engineering tech, not the communications officer." He stared at the blinking light for another second before opening the comm line again.

"Bridge to Alvarez."

"Shit! WHAT!"

"Phoenix?" Hitchcock said plainly. He heard a heavy sigh over the line before the Chief spoke.

"Hitch … I'm waist deep in a pile of shit known as the warp engine and have no time to answer some pansy ass hail from another ship! You're in charge on the bridge … show some leadership for kricesakes!'

The searing words sizzled in Hitchcock's ear and he cringed as he cut the comm line. "Geezus, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed!" Hitchcock punched some buttons on his console and drew his body up in an authoritative manner. "Here goes nothing," he mumbled under his breath as his hand wavered over the talk button.

--

Captain Charles Tucker the Third blinked in surprise as the view screen sprang to life and revealed a lone crew member on the bridge of Columbia. "Crewman?" Tucker muttered aloud into the open comm link. He winced at his blunder. _I was just expecting an ensign … or crap! What the hell was I expecting? Hernandez? _

"Ahh, Crewman Hitchcock, engineering tech, Columbia, sir," Hitchcock replied as he nervously stood at attention.

"Captain Tucker, relax crewman," Trip said regaining his composure. He watched the "How're things going?" he asked grimacing at how stupid it sounded.

"Better, but not so good sir," the young tech said relaxing slightly. "Half the crew is asleep, the chief hasn't left engineering for more than four hours the past two days and ummm Commander Sadek is still unconscious in sickbay."

Tucker nodded silently and understood exactly what the man wasn't saying. They were beat-down but not about to give up. Trip knew that feeling all too well, having lived it himself. This rescue was reminding him of the Xindi mission more and everyday. "What about you? When was the last time you slept?"

"I gotta couple hours earlier today sir," Hitchcock replied. "I'm good to go for awhile. There are people here that are a lot worse off than me."

"Noted. How about the engines?" Trip said pacing around the helm station.

"The Chief thinks they're cra…er bad," Hitchcock mumbled catching himself with the improper language. His face flushed with embarrassment.

"It's okay Hitchcock, I was an engineer in my life before a Captain," Tucker said with a chuckle. He glanced around the bridge and caught the nods of his bridge crew. "Can you patch me through to the Chief?" he asked his mind racing at the chief's assessment. The skeleton crew was able to execute an escape from the Anoree with no resistance, so the engines had to be running at warp three at the minimum. _I'd probably think that was crap too if I was over there, _Trip thought.

"Yes sir," Hitchcock replied sliding down into the seat at the helm station. He tapped some keys on the panel and cued up the internal comm link to Engineering.

--

Freddie Alvarez was squeezed into the maintenance shaft that ran in the power room adjacent to Engineering. He was flat on his back pulling off a balancing act that broke every protocol in the Starfleet manual. The live wires dangling in front of his face, the flashlight clenched tightly in his teeth and the spanner he had jammed into the relay just above his head all meant one wrong move could equal a very fried Alvarez. Freddie just needed to concentrate on what he was doing, which meant no interruptions.

"Bridge to Chief Alvarez."

"Grrruck!" Alvarez mumbled under his breath as he dropped the spanner on his chest and took the flashlight out of his mouth. He pulled his communicator out of his arm pocket and flipped it open. "What?" he snapped as sweat dripped down the side of his face.

"Chief Alvarez, Captain Tucker from the Phoenix. What's the status of the engines?"

Freddie felt his face turn six shades of red and was instantly mortified at his response. _Brilliant Alvarez! _he chided himself. _We're not alone out here anymore! _He ran the sleeve of his uniform across his forehead. "Impulse is fine. I can squeak out a weak warp three three, maybe three five in a pinch, but not much more."

"I see," Tucker's voice echoed through the comm device. "We'll be at your coordinates in forty minutes. Advise your helmsman to move the ship out of the asteroid field and prepare for our arrival."

"Yes sir," Alvarez replied wincing at the all business tone of the Captain. _I'm sure a good ass chewing is in store for that smart ass greeting, _Freddie chided himself as he listened carefully for the comm link to close. "Alvarez to Hitchcock."

"Hitchcock here," the engineering tech responded.

"Phoenix will be here in forty minutes, get the ship off the rocks and wake the rest of the crew," Alvarez said into the mic.

"Aye Chief."

tbc


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Ambassador Gevale drummed his fingers on the top of his desk and stared blankly out the window of his stateroom. His goals for the populace were spiraling out of control. The people he loved and had vowed to protect were dying and he could do nothing to stop their demise. His world had been drawn into a war he didn't want to fight. And the enemy, his own daughter, was attacking on both fronts.

Gevale leaned his head forward and resting his arms on his legs and ran his palms over the scales on his head. _How had I been so blind to this! _he berated himself. _How can I lead our world when my own daughter undermines my mission? _He looked back at the computer monitor with disgust. The files pulled from his attendant's database detailed the lies and delusions that fed his daughter's irrational behavior.

A knock at the door drew his focus from the screen. "Enter," he commanded. He looked up just as his aide, Atar, slinked into the room.

"You wanted to see me, milord?" the man stammered nervously. His scales had turned purple and laid flat against his scalp, his hands trembled uncontrollably.

Gevale stood from the desk and wordlessly turned the monitor for Atar's viewing. He watched the color drain from the man's face and felt the fire boil beneath his. Neither man said anything, not that anything much needed to be said.

"The blood of a people dirties my hands," Gevale finally remarked after several minutes. He watched a wave of emotion cross his aide's face. "The blood of a people dirties my hands," the ambassador repeated as he stood and walked around the desk slowly.

"Well, not you're hands specifically milord," Atar stuttered following Gevale with his eyes. "You're hands because of your daughter, but not your personal hands," he added gesturing at the Ambassador as he walked toward him. Atar scrambled to back away from his mentor until he collided with the bulk head.

"The blood of a people dirties my hands," Gevale repeated as he towered over his aide. He glared at the man as he trembled below him.

"Okay, yeah, I get that," Atar squawked looking up at Gevale.

Silence fell between them as Gevale's eyes bored through his aide. "I would ask what possessed you to feed my daughter those lies, but it is pointless," Gevale growled still staring through Atar.

"It's complicated milord…. Agh!" Atar squeaked just as Gevale grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the bulkhead.

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" Gevale hissed into his ear. "So motivated by greed that it clouded your judgment? It would give me great pleasure to squeeze your little neck until your head popped off and rolled onto the floor. That is what you are begging for isn't it? The clean way out of the consequences of your actions? Why should I allow you an easy escape from your indiscretion? You did not allow the human's an escape from the games you played with your lies."

Atar gagged as the Ambassador's foul breath smothered his face. His legs kicked the air for a foothold and the back of his hands failed against the bulkhead. He struggled for a few more seconds as tunnel vision starting closing in on him. When he was least expecting it, Gevale released his grip on him and dropped him to the floor.

"Our people will decide your fate after I expose your deception to them!" Gevale sneered down at his aide. He reached over to the computer and keyed a button on the keyboard. "Get this filth out of my office!" he snarled into the air. He watched the security detail swiftly enter the office and drag Atar from the room.

"Hybrids," Gevale muttered as he kicked his chair with disgust. "Hybrids will be the death of our society."

00-00

"Coffee black."

Admiral Archer stood patiently as the drink dispenser filled his cup with the steamy brown liquid. When the ready light flashed okay, he reached to pick up his coffee and turned to walk toward a table by the window. A moment of déjà vu flashed over him as he settled into his seat. A few weeks ago, he shared a meal with his friend at a diner in what had become his hometown. Today he sat alone sipping coffee in a place as familiar to him as the backyard in his boyhood home.

The irony of it was he didn't belong here officially. He could wander the corridors, check his email everyday and even pull a ship status report or two if he needed, but his purpose here was over and it was time to go home. As for home, he didn't belong on Earth at least not in his heart.

The stars still pulled at him like a hypnotic lure. They drew him into a trance and reminded him of the adventures that he lived, the danger that he survived and the miracles that he pulled off. He was a diplomat and could negotiate and haggle like a twentieth century used car salesperson, but the real fun was the unknown. Going boldly into the frontier where few human had traveled.

"Bridge to Admiral Archer."

Archer set his cup down on the table and fished his communicator out of his uniform pocket. "Archer here," he said into the device.

"We just received a communication from Ambassador Gevale on subspace sir," the communications officer stated. "He's requesting to speak to you. I've pended the transmission to the Captain's ready room."

"Thank you Ensign," Archer said standing up from the table. "Advise Captain Harvick I'm on my way."

00-00

"Captain on deck!"

Captain Charles Tucker the Third cringed as he stepped out of the turbolift onto Columbia's bridge. "As you were," he mumbled to the bridge crew as he turned to head down the stairs to the situation room. _I hate that, _he thought as he paused at the top of the stairs.

_You should be honored, _T'Pol reminded him gently as she looked up at him on the crossway. _You are their Captain. _

_That's hogwash darlin, _Trip conveyed to her as he walked slowly down the steps. "What's the update?" he asked aloud drawing Commander McCann and Crewman Hitchcock's attention from the monitors on the aft bulkhead.

"Thanks to Crewman Hitchcock's keen eye, I think we figured out where the Columbia crew is being held," McCann said walking over to the work bar in the center of the situation room.

"It wasn't all my doing sir," Hitchcock mumbled sheepishly. "Ensign Miner took the scans."

"It will be noted in the record crewman," T'Pol replied flatly. "However, you were the one that interpreted the data." She looked toward Hitchcock and gave him a look that could be considered as warm … in a cold Vulcan way.

"Yes, ma'm," Hitchcock replied.

"Hitchcock has determined the prison is here," McCann said pointing at a small planet cluster on the monitor at the work bar.

"It's the most logical location," Hitchcock added. He punched some keys on the panel and changed the display. "This is the nebula Columbia was holed up in for the ten days before we escaped. Top speed of their ships is warp three. It would go to reason that the holding area would be close to the nebula," Hitchcock said nervously. "This planet is only a three day trip from those coordinates." He pointed to the largest planet in the cluster.

Trip nodded his head. "What are we …about seven light years from there?"

"More like five," McCann replied looking over at the Captain. "Phoenix could be there in two days at warp five."

Trip tapped his hand on the side of the work console. "What's the status of the engine repairs?" Trip looked to T'Pol for an answer. He knew Dempsey and his team had been hard at work since the rendezvoused with Columbia nineteen hours ago. "Please tell me they're in better condition than Chief Alvarez's appraisal yesterday."

"Unless you can pull a rabbit out of your hat, warp five is out of the question," T'Pol answered. "You'll have to settle for warp four."

Trip chuckled at the joke and winked at T'Pol. "Okay, so that adds two days to the trip. What about weapons?" he asked glancing toward McCann.

"The turrets have all been repaired," Catch replied. "The rest of the work can all be done enroute. We could have them back online in a day or two at the most."

"Good," Trip said crossing his arms at his chest. "Nice work Hitchcock." He nodded toward the young man and the inclined his head to the right to indicate he was dismissed. Hitchcock got the message right away and excused himself down an auxiliary corridor. "He looks like hell," Trip commented when he was sure the technician was out of earshot.

"They're all pretty whipped," Catch agreed sighing. He ran his hand through his short hair. "They've all taken a mandatory six hour rest, but I doubt if it helped much. They're exhausted. You can see it in their eyes."

"Hmm, yeah, I've been there," Tucker said as a faint memory of life on Enterprise flashed through his mind. "Did Alvarez take his break?" Trip asked.

"Barely, security had to escort him to quarters," McCann commented shaking his head.

"If I remember correctly, that seems to be a theme with the engineering department," T'Pol replied with a sarcastic tone. She looked up at Tucker with her 'all-knowing' expression.

"I didn't need to be escorted by security," Tucker retorted in his defense.

"Practically," T'Pol muttered under her breath.

"What are you talking about?" McCann asked interrupting the two from their low level bickering.

"T'Pol was referring to an incident on Enterprise when the CMO told me to take a nap," Trip replied walking over to the wall monitor and keying up a status report.

"Ordered you to take a mandatory rest," T'Pol corrected him.

"Semantics!" Trip replied glancing back at her. "Engineers are sensitive about their equipment running smoothly." He stared at the status report for a moment. "Are we ready to mount a rescue mission?"

"We'll need a couple of hours to finish some key repairs and move supplies over," T'Pol replied looking toward McCann for consensus.

"It could go faster if we had a couple extra hands," Catch said with a grin.

"How many extra hands do you need exactly?" Trip laughed looking over at the commander. "You got half the Phoenix crew over here."

"You aren't trying to rebuild a wreck!" McCann chuckled.

"I'd hardly classify Columbia as a wreck," T'Pol replied.

Trip glanced around the situation room and out onto the bridge. Three Phoenix crewmembers were staffing the helm, tactical and comm and were working quietly at their stations. Tucker smiled smugly and looked back at McCann. "I'd say it's more like a tinker toy. It runs okay for now, maybe better the more you play with it." Trip glanced at T'Pol as he spoke.

Catch trailed his eyes between the captain and commander before replying. "Is that some kind of private code?" he questioned.

"No," T'Pol replied with a puzzled tone in her voice.

"Uh huh," Catch grunted still eyeing his two superior officers. "I'll get on those supplies," he said walking out of the room and heading down the auxiliary corridor.

Trip watched him go with a perplexed expression on his face. "What was that about?" he blurted out looking back at T'Pol.

"I believe the commander thought you were making an innuendo," T'Pol remarked turning to face the Captain. When she noticed the expression on his face, she continued. "The more you play with it the better it gets?"

Trip started the laugh and coughed to cover it. "That's not what I meant," he stammered. "He obviously has something more than the ship on his brain." _I just came from sickbay. Colonel Lynch informed me that's she's pregnant, _he projected to her wordlessly. _Catch is the father. _

"I see," T'Pol said tilting her head to the left. "That will make the selection for first officer rather complicated."

_Complicated is one way to put it, _he projected to her. "Yeah, well like I said ….we might as well start calling Phoenix the _Love Boat_."

00-00

"Bridge to Captain Tucker." Hoshi's voice rang out over the ship-wide comm system on Phoenix catching Trip's attention as he cleared the airlock. He stepped to the comm panel and keyed the talk button.

"Tucker here," he replied as he punched some keys on the status display.

"I have an incoming transmission from the Bristol. It's Captain Archer," she informed him.

"_Captain Archer_?" Trip replied with a chuckle. "He get demoted while I was on Columbia?" he asked her through the link.

"Ooops, no," she remarked with a giggle. "You're starting to wear off on me."

"Well, now that's a scary thought," Trip replied. "Route the call to … ah," Trip craned his neck down the corridor looking for an empty doorway. "Science lab four," he finally decided when his eyes settled on T'Pol's office.

"Aye Captain," Hoshi replied.

Trip jogged half way down the corridor and entered his security code on the door control. Once the door slid open, he stepped to the computer station on the desk and tapped the keys until the video image of Archer popped up on the screen.

"Jon," Tucker greeted him as he sat down in the desk chair. He pulled a PADD out of the cargo pocket of his BDU's and set it on the desk.

"Trip," Archer replied hesitantly. "Where are you?" he questioned the Captain.

"T'Pol's office," Trip said looking around the room. "I just got back from Columbia and this was the closest to the airlock."

"Ah," Archer said nodding his head. "How are things with Columbia?"

"Well, not as bad as we anticipated. Dempsey and his team are working on the engine. We just ran a Warp test. McCann has hull plating back online, weapons will be repaired in another day or so," Trip rattled off like a laundry list.

"Do you think you're ready to mount a rescue mission?" Archer asked him carefully.

"We've done more with less," Trip replied. "We know the location of the prison facility," Trip added with a smile.

The news surprised Archer considering that Ambassador Gevale had only told him the location and supplied the necessary security codes to disable the facilities defenses a few hours before he contacted Phoenix. "Really?"

"One of the engineering techs from Columbia figured it out based on the scans they took in captivity," Trip replied. He leaned forward in his seat and tapped a few keys on the PADD transferring the data through the link to Archer. "We suspect the compound is on the large planet in the cluster." Tucker watched Archer review the information and nod his head approvingly.

"What if I could confirm that for you?" Archer asked. "And give you access?"

"I'm not following," Tucker replied with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Ambassador Gevale contacted me an hour ago and provided me with similar information," Archer said uploading his info into the link and sending Trip the file. "I admire your team's ingenuity," he said. "The location is correct."

"Hernandez's team," Tucker corrected him. Trip scanned the data quickly and was relived to confirm that Hitchcock had been right. "Gevale just gave all this up?" he asked looking up at the monitor.

"Gevale said he had no idea how delusional his daughter had become," Archer said leaning back in his chair. "Apparently his aide and several others had been feeding her information that their species was biologically compatible with humanoids. He knew she was obsessed with continuing their family's rule, but had no idea that she would resort to such tactics."

"Are we compatible?" Trip questioned. "Riley didn't seem to think so," he muttered half under his breath.

"Not likely," Archer replied. "The Anoree and the Naree are sterile. Both races have been experimenting with hybrids over the past ten or fifteen years, with limited success."

"But Elnora…his daughter thought different," Tucker half asked half stated staring at the data.

"After she was given falsified research," Archer agreed. "She chose to believe the lies rather than the facts and eliminated anyone that tried to tell her different."

Tucker nodded, deep in thought. The information on the PADD was pissing him off. How could the leader of a country not know what his own daughter was doing? How could he be so blind to the atrocities occurring right at his feet? "So did he give any status on the crew?" Trip asked through gritted teeth. "Are they alive?"

Archer was somber for a moment before responding. "He knows there are survivors at the compound." Archer signed heavily and looked back at the monitor. "He couldn't give me an accurate head count. Trip, Gevale asked for a favor…"

"I don't think he's really in a position to be asking…"

"_**He**_ contacted us, Captain. He willingly gave us the information," Archer retorted cutting Tucker off. "There are Anoree females being held at the compound against their will. The Ambassador has asked …."

"I got it," Trip replied brusquely trying to cool his temper. "Columbia's crew is my first priority Admiral. If there is time, I'll ah …. try too," he said flatly. He knew what Archer was getting at without anyone having to say it. The Ambassador wanted his females rescued and good ole Starfleet was going to have to be the one to do it. _Where the hell was the good Ambassador when Columbia was being ambushed and the crew abducted? I don't see the Ambassador running out to save any of our people. Course, their ships are only capable for crawling through space. _Trip tossed the PADD on the counter in frustration.

"I suggestion you find a constructive outlet for that anger of yours Captain," Archer commented reeling Tucker back to the conversation. "Don't let it cloud your judgment. Off the record, I'd like the throw the guy out an airlock and blast his daughter's ship right out of the sky myself."

Trip looked at the monitor and deep into the eyes of his mentor and friend. "So you're sending me to do your dirty work?" he asked quietly.

"I'm sending you in to get the job done," Archer said flatly. "Your reinforcement is nine days out."

"Nine days? Pearson better get his foot on the gas!" Trip replied with an incredulous expression on his face. He shook his head in disgust. "Phoenix and Columbia will be fine. I've learned from the best to fight smarter with fewer resources," he added with a small smile.

Archer took a sip from his coffee cup and nodded at the screen. "I'll take that as a compliment," he replied.

"You should. This is nothing compared to what we went through on Enterprise."

"Times are different now Trip," Archer reminded him. "The planet is just a few parsecs from Romulan space, so watch your back. You don't know who her allies are."

"I hear you Jon," Trip replied trying to take the Admiral's advice and stow his feelings. "Loud and clear." He reflected quietly at how space had changed in the past fifteen years. "Where you off to now?" he asked changing the subject.

"Back to Earth," Jon said.

"Oh, you mean back to your desk," Trip chuckled.

"Bridge to Captain Tucker," Hoshi called to him from the bridge.

Trip pulled his communicator out of his uniform pocket and flipped it open. "Go ahead."

"Commander McCann advises Columbia is ready to depart," Hoshi replied.

"Okay. Notify all stations. I'll be up in a minute. Tucker out," Trip said snapping the communicator closed. "That's my cue," he said into the monitor.

"Have a safe trip Captain," Archer smiled. "It's my turn to buy breakfast."

"Thanks Jon," Trip replied. "Be safe yourself, wouldn't want to you to bleed to death from a paper cut."

tbc


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"Bridge to Captain Tucker."

Trip rolled his head on his shoulders and looked up at the ceiling of the command center. The four-day trek to the compound had been challenging for Columbia and taxed every member of the Phoenix crew. System failures plagued the ship and just when Dempsey and his team thought they had a handle on the problem, another gremlin jumped onto the court. Yesterday the problem with the engine got so out of control the resident _NX_ expert had to be called in and said expert ended up pulling an all-nighter.

_An all-nighter in one of my favorite places, _Trip thought stretching his arms over his head. _Makes me wish I was still an engineer. _He picked up his coffee cup as he reveled in his triumph. It took a couple of hours, but he fixed it. _I fixed Columbia's engines! _He stared into the void of the cup, forgetting all about the bridge call. _The team, Chief Alvarez, Crewman Hitchcock, Ensign Lippert, Dempsey … the team … we fixed it. _

"Captain Tucker?"

The voice jolted him from his fog. He pulled his communicator out of his pocket and slid it open. "Tucker here."

"Captain, you have a visitor in the ready room."

"I'll be right there." Trip replied with a smirk on his face. Tonight's visitor was about to get a real ass chewing … _Admiral Anthony Stewart style_. Missed reporting deadlines, anti-social, arguing with senior staff, overall bad attitude … all attributes that could get a person kicked right off the ship. He downloaded some information to a PADD and stood up from the workstation.

Within ten minutes, he was towering over his "visitor" trying to pull of his best _Iron fist _persona. His target seemed intimidated, at least in theory anyway.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he questioned his subject crossing his arms at his chest.

"Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because it's part of your program," Tucker said dropping his hands to his waist. He knew exactly where this was going.

"It's stupid."

"It's not stupid, Riley. On Earth it's the law that kids your age go to school," Trip replied still standing over her.

"I don't live on Earth!" she protested. "I may never live on Earth again."

Trip's mind raced a mini marathon while he tried to decide what he was going to say. _Why do I suddenly sound like her father? _"Riley, the skills you are learning will help you in life, no matter where you live."

"Oh right," Riley scowled. "How is physics going to help me?"

"Try flying a shuttle pod without understanding the mechanics," Trip said waving his hand up in frustration.

"I could fly a shuttle if my life depended on it," she retorted.

"Really? Maybe we should test that theory right now?" Trip suggested. "How 'bout it?"

Riley looked out the window and back up at him. "We're at warp," she muttered with a perplexed expression on her face.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You can't launch a shuttle at warp," she replied. "It would be smashed flat from the G-forces."

"How do you know?" he questioned barely able to keep the smile off his face.

"Ensign Carole told me in my ….." her voice trailed off and she looked at the floor.

"What was that?" Trip said leaning against the desk. "I…I couldn't quite hear that."

Riley blew a puff of air out loudly. "I learned it in my physics lesson," she muttered refusing to look up at him.

"Ah huh," he grunted. "What'd I tell ya?"

"Okay, you made your point," she said with a dejected tone in her voice.

"What about your PT?" Tucker asked her.

"What about it?"

"Lieutenant Haas informed me you refuse to run on deck eleven," Trip said leaning toward her.

"It's haunted!" Riley yelped. "I'm not going down there!"

"It's not haunted. There is nothing but empty rooms on deck eleven."

"Noooo!" Riley argued shaking her head. "There is something living down there in one of the room. I saw the door move and a shadow inside the room."

"I think that's your imagination playing games with you," Trip remarked just as the comm link clicked behind him.

"Bridge to Captain Tucker."

Trip twisted around on the desk to reach the comm padd. "Go ahead."

"Captain Pearson is pending for you."

"Okay," he replied looking up at the chronometer. He turned back to Riley. "You have three hours before your lesson with Ensign Carole. _Go do your homework_," he said enunciating each word.

"Yes sir," she said standing up from the chair and walking to the door.

00-00

Ensign Kelly Morgan sat in the dining room nursing a plate of food and a glass of water. She stared blankly at the tabletop and reflected on how numb she felt. Her purpose and lifeblood had been sucked out of her, reaffirming why seeing Trey was a mistake, it had been four days since he had been dragged from her cell and any attempt to get information on his whereabouts from her guards had been fruitless. Ichara told her that musing over his fate was useless, but it didn't belay her feelings and the hole in her heart that wouldn't stop throbbing.

Besides Trey's disappearance, other things were occurring in the compound that were unsettling to the Columbia crew. New prisoners were arriving everyday. Shavu and Avu had been reassigned and the new guards had little time for talk. The relaxed atmosphere the detainees had come to expect was quickly snagged from under them as the guards resorted to physical punishment quickly and for the most part, no understandable reason. The only good thing that happened during all the commotion was Kelly, Ichara and Captain Hernandez were moved to the men's dormitory.

Despite their hatred for the captain, Hernandez rallied the detainees into hanging on every day. Whatever their feelings or opinions, they respected Hernandez's fight for life. So determined to beat the odds, she silently inspired all the detainees, to the point they were protective of her. Just a day ago when the guards attempted to transfer Hernandez to the medical bay, the Columbia crew stood their ground protectively around the captain and deterred her removal from the ward. Kelly knew she was grateful for what protection and aide they provided under their horrendous condition, even if she rarely verbalized it. The guilt that fed the woman had to be overwhelming.

"Kelly," Ichara called to her from the doorway.

Ensign Morgan looked up to see Ichara, Lieutenant Mahoney and Crewman Lake enter the dining room and approach her table.

"Brice, Kyle," she muttered as she watched the three sit around from her.

"We overheard the guards talking," Lake said leaning his elbows on the table. "The supply transports aren't coming."

"The ship the guards spoke of was filled with new prisoners," Ichara explained. "I suspect that's why we were moved and our access was changed. The guards are busy processing them."

"The new meat," Lake guffawed. "All the better for us I say. One more day being forced into the rec room was going to kill me."

"You think that's going to stop?" Kelly retorted looking up at him. She watched him shrug and she pushed her plate away. "We're in prison. They beat us, torture us and lie to us. That is the order of things."

"Something is happening," Ichara replied. "The guard seemed…."

"Antsy," Mahoney finished the sentence for her. "Ichara is right. Why else would they change the protocol of our bracelets? I can understand why they think they can trust you two … but the rest of us? There are only a handful of guards and eighteen of us. Twenty including the two of you. Giving us free access to the compound is a tactical error."

"Maybe that's their plan, to lure us into a trap so they can kill us," Kelly mumbled as a tear rolled down her face. She felt Kyle's hand on her back and felt little comfort in his warmth.

"Don't give up now Ensign," he said reassuringly in her ear. "You've beaten the odds already."

"Nobody is giving up," Ichara said firmly. "Kelly's need for survival is strong. We've all made it this far. We can work together, maybe with the new prisoners and come up with a new plan." She held Kelly's gaze as she spoke projecting a silent understanding.

"You're optimistic," Lake remarked taking a drink from Kelly's water glass.

"If you have lived as Ichara has, you would understand," Kelly replied watching Ichara nod. She noticed movement behind Lake and looked up to see an attendant set a container on the table. "Thank you," she said to the attendant before he walked away.

"What's this?" Lake said lifting up the lid.

"Out!" Kelly spat, slapping his hand and pulling the container closer to her side of the table. "It's broth for the captain."

"Ouch, excuse me," he replied jokingly. "Is she well enough to eat?" he asked looking from Kelly to Lieutenant Mahoney. "She didn't look too good this morning."

"Barely," Kelly replied. "At least her fever's down. The Lieutenant had her sitting up last night." She looked over to him appreciatively. Mahoney had the same schooling as Kelly and only three months seniority on her, but somehow his expertise trumped hers. At least in her mind anyway.

"We need to get her strength up," Mahoney remarked. "Lying on that cot all day isn't good. She needs to move, get the blood circulating." He trailed his gaze around the table and settled on Kelly. "With that said, we should probably go check on her. Brice, take Kelly outside for some air," Kyle said glancing over at Lake.

"What?" Kelly stammered looking back at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing more than you need some fresh air," Kyle said standing up. "You and Ichara have been locked up in the back room for the past three weeks. A little sun will do you good."

"Yes Kelly," Ichara agreed. "It will help clear your head." She leaned over the table and picked up the container of broth. "The lieutenant and I will check on the captain."

Kelly watched Ichara and Mahoney leave the room and slowly trailed her gaze to Lake. "Why do I suspect a set up?" she asked him suspiciously.

"Because you've been cooped up too long," Lake said standing up. He extended his hand to her. "Let's go. I'm your entertainment guide."

00-00

CDR Stu Rybaiski walked into the mess hall and stood in front of the refrigeration display for several minutes before making his selection. He picked up his tray and turned around to find a table. The room was nearly empty, so he had the pick of locations. As he made his way toward the window, he noticed someone sitting alone in the corner and veered toward the table.

"Up for some company?" he said when he got closer.

The red-haired girl looked up at him and smiled. "Sure Commander," Riley replied moving her stuff out of his way. "Got enough to eat?" she commented looking at his overloaded tray.

"Wanna share?" Stu asked her as he sat down.

"Ah, no," Riley shook her head. "Too rich for my blood. It will make me sick"

"That's coming from the girl who eats chocolate ice cream for breakfast?" Rybaiski laughed.

Riley laughed with him and shook her head. "My system isn't used to certain foods just yet. Dr. McCann and Chef monitor everything I eat and it's never chocolate ice cream for breakfast," she informed him.

"Uh huh," Rybaiski mumbled sticking a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. "Whatcha writing?" he asked motioning at the PADD on the table.

"A letter to my brother. At least I'm trying too," she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't exactly know what to say."

"Well, if he was me, I'd want to know what you'd been doing for the past couple of years," Stu said. He picked up his water glass and took a drink.

"So I should tell him that I was a slave girl that danced for a buck?" Riley questioned him. "You'd want to read that?" She tilted her head with a perplexed expression on her face.

Rybaiski was quiet for a moment mulling it over in his head. "Well, I wouldn't like it … but yeah, I'd need to understand what happened to you so we could put our relationship back together. You don't need to be graphic about it. Just tell him your story," Stu said twisting his pasta with his fork. "It's not really any different than breaking down your walls with us," he reminded her. "Except I'm sure your not going to beat the crap out of your brother when you finally meet him." Stu smiled and winked at her to make his point.

"I'll try to contain myself," Riley bit her lip and smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry about your friend … Ensign Chambers," she added, her voice practically a whisper.

"It's okay," Rybaiski answered as he continued to eat. "You were just trying to defend yourself. You didn't really hurt her," he said picking up his water glass.

"But… I heard she had to have surgery because of what I did," Riley blurted out in confusion.

"She had surgery, but it wasn't because of what you did to her exactly," he said reassuringly. "In fact, you did her a favor. See because of what you did, she had a bunch of tests run and we found out that she had something wrong inside her brain. She needed the surgery to correct it. If you hadn't hit her, she would have never found out and one day she would have just died for seemingly no reason," he explained leaning back in his chair. "So in the end, it was a good thing you hit her, not that I would advise doing that on a regular basis."

Riley stared at the commander with a perplexed expression on her face. "You're weird," she muttered to fill the empty space after a minute.

"I'm weird?" he chuckled picking up his fork. "Well, birds of a feather flock together."

Rybaiski watched the young girl as he ate his meal. She had come along way since her fateful escape from sickbay. As she acclimated to life on the ship, she shed her apprehension around the crew and started to develop friendships with a selected few, himself included. It was nice to see Riley laugh and feel like Phoenix was her safe zone. He continued to eat as she rambled on about the letter to her brother oblivious to the others in the mess hall. Oblivious until a certain person walked through the door.

Stu was mid swallow when he noticed Riley turn her head and start to tremble slightly. He darted his eyes to the left and noticed a Tellarite exchange officer amble up to the drink dispenser. "You okay?" he asked Riley carefully eyeing her reaction.

"Um yeah," she said as she leaned into the table and started to collect her things. "I should go. I have my physics lesson with Ensign Carole in a little bit."

Stu noticed her hand shaking as she tried to pick up the PADD. "You got some time, doesn't it start at nineteen thirty?" he asked drawing her attention away from the door.

"Yeah," she muttered looking back at him.

"That's ah eleven minutes from now," Stu reminded her. "Just enough time to work on that letter some more." He watched her squirm in her seat. Her eyes darted wildly everywhere but back to the door and it reminded him of that frantic expression on her face the night he found her in the shuttle pod. Riley was agitated and her breathing was beginning to become labored.

It wasn't the first panic attack she had around one of the exchange officers. Usually Riley freaked and bolted out of the situation. The Tellarites had been on board for four weeks now. It would another two to three months before they or Riley would be transferred off the ship. Phoenix wasn't that big; she couldn't run forever, Riley needed to figure out a way to deal with her fear. This was her chance to confront it head on and Stu was going to see it through with her … even if it meant pinning her in her seat.

"So umm, got your physics homework done?" he asked as a diversion.

"Huh?" she muttered looking back at him. "Does everyone on the ship know about that?"

"It's a small ship," Stu replied after taking another swallow of his water.

"Geezus, like my homework is anyone's business," she retorted crossing her arms at her chest. "Just another thing to put me under the microscope."

"You think you're under a microscope?" he asked setting his fork down.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Sort of."

"That's called caring Riley," he said taking a bite out of his garlic bread. "I care whether or not you do your homework and broaden your horizons. Just like I care whether or not you can learn to live with people who are different than you." He looked back toward the front of the mess hall. "He's gone and look, you survived it. You sat here the whole time he was in the room getting a drink from the machine. You didn't bolt out of your seat or start screaming or knock out your security escort."

"He's the monster in my dreams," Riley said looking down at the tabletop.

"He is? Shoot … here I thought I was the one that you fantasized about," Stu said with a dead serious expression on his face. His gamble paid off when she looked up at him and laughed.

"You wish," Riley chuckled nervously.

"You can't treat a single person a certain way because of what one person in his species did to you," Stu reminded her.

"It wasn't just one person," she argued.

"Whatever," he interrupted. "You know what I meant. You can't let those ghosts control you," he said picking up his water glass. "This is your safe zone. No one is going to hurt you here."

"That's easy for you to say," she said fiddling with the PADD. "You haven't been lied to half your life."

"Are we back to that again?" he asked rolling his eyes. "When was the last time someone lied to you?"

Riley tilted her head in thought. "Lieutenant Haas did the other day when he said there was nothing on deck eleven."

"Huh? There isn't anything on deck eleven," Rybaiski retorted.

"Yes there is," Riley argued.'

"Yeah, a cargo bay, the racquetball slash basketball court and a bunch of empty rooms."

"They're not all empty," Riley began to say just as her communicator cut her off.

"Ensign Carole to Riley."

Riley slumped against the chair and looked at the commander Rybaiski. "You made me late," she mumbled pulling the communicator out of her pocket. "Riley here. I'm on my way. Commander Rybaiski held me up." She snapped the communicator shut and picked up her PADD. "Will you help me write this letter later?" she asked as she stood up from the chair.

"Sure," he said. "Whatever you need."

"Whatever I need?" she repeated with a smirk. "Including finding the ghost on deck eleven?"

00-00

"It's beautiful here," Kelly mumbled as she lay on the ground and looked up at the night sky. Morgan and Lake had been sitting outside for over two hours basking in the night air. "Sick huh?" she giggle looking over at Crewman Lake.

"You could say that," he replied tossing a rock into the force field that prevented them from leaving the courtyard.

"Do you think the ship is up there?" Kelly asked mindlessly.

"Hard to say," Lake answered. "The lizards probably stripped it and sold it off to a salvage dealer by now."

"Oh that's optimistic," Morgan retorted rolling over to face him. "What happened to being my entertainment guide?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled sheepishly rubbing his hand across his groin. "I'm bored."

"Maybe you should go visit your girlfriend in the rec room," Kelly quipped pushing herself up from the ground. "What's her name? Callee? You could get your freak on with her, that's what you do right?"

"More or less. But it's hardly recreational," he said. "I mean it was in the beginning, it was actually fun the first couple of days. Now it's just a form of torture."

"Having sex everyday is a form of torture?" Kelly questioned him. She walked over to a bench and sat down. "I can think of ten people that would argue that point with you."

"Well, you would think that," Brice replied. "While we're on the topic of what I do or don't enjoy in the rec room…..were you sleeping with that guard?" He looked over to her and saw her squirm in her seat. "Kelly? Did he force himself on you?"

She exhaled slowly and shook her head. "I've haven't been forced to do anything," she said skating the question. "They're impotent."

"Whatever! You expect me to believe that? You had him wrapped around your finger!" Brice joked. He rubbed the inside of his thigh more aggressively this time. It didn't go unnoticed by Kelly.

"Gotta itch?" she scowled at him.

"Sort of," Lake remarked trying to adjust himself. "The skin around my crotch is on fire."

"Maybe you have crabs," Kelly said with a deadpan delivery. "That's what you get for not practicing safe sex."

Lake opened his eyes wide and shot Kelly an incredulous expression. "Wha? No way! Crabs are folklore!" he guffawed.

"That's not exactly true Crewman," Ensign Morgan informed him. "Haven't you heard that old bar rule … be careful who you lay with, because you don't' know who they've been laying with? That's why there's a protocol against sleeping with aliens."

"Guess someone forgot to tell the lizards," Lake mumbled just as a guard he never saw before rushed into the courtyard.

"Back inside! Both of you!" The male was visibly agitated as he corralled the two into the building.

"What's going on?" Brice asked as the guard pushed the two against the wall and roughly patted each down.

"That's none of your concern," the guard growled. The male pulled two rocks out of Lake's pocket and tossed them on the floor. "Trying to pick up weapons?" he hissed into Lake's ear.

"No," Lake protested. "I was just playing a game."

"I'll show you a game," the guard replied caustically. "Hands on your head. Both of you!" he ordered and chuckled sadistically as they both complied. "You want to play? We'll have fun tonight."

00-00

Rybaiski ran down the corridor on deck two and skidded into the Command Center at the end of the hall. He nearly bowled Commander Gervase over as he came crashing through the door. "What's going on?" he blurted out.

"Incoming transmission from Columbia," Ensign Braidi remarked calmly from the comm station.

"On screen," Trip replied pacing around the work bar. "Commanders," he greeted T'Pol and Catch once the image flicked into view. Lieutenant Dempsey hovered in the background of the room.

"Captain," T'Pol replied with a formal tone. "We just received word from the Andorian Security Director, the Naree are aware of Elnora's failed attempt at Hybrids."

"There seems to be a leak in her organization," Dempsey added. "From the compound obviously."

"Don't assume, it could have come from the High Family."

"They live on the same planet," Rybaiski shrugged.

"It would be easy enough to make a phone call," Gervase pointed out. "Payback from the King."

"Why would the Ambassador tip us off on Elnora's secret lab and clue his arch enemy in before we get in place to rescue our people?" Dempsey questioned throwing his hands up in the air. His antenna tilted forward with an accusing air. "That would be political suicide!"

"And hasten the Anoree death," Rybaiski added noticing for the first time that Tucker hadn't said a word, not that they had given him much time to do so.

"In any event," T'Pol interrupted drawing the focus in the room. "The Naree are planning a raid on the compound."

"It will take fifty two hours to assemble their ships," Catch remarked.

"What's our ETA to the sector?" Tucker asked.

"At present speed, ten hours," Stu answered.

Rybaiski watched as Tucker paced around the work bar considering his options. The captain persona that enveloped his friend intrigued him. How Trip could transform from his racquetball buddy to the stoic captain in a matter of seconds mystified him. _Impressive, _Stu thought

"Darlington is a day behind us," Stu offered to break the silence.

"The Security Director has dispatched two ships to assist us," Dempsey said. "They are also a day away."

"Intel also picked up chatter that after the raid the remaining detainees would be parceled off at slave markets," McCann added glancing back at Dempsey.

"The chatter wasn't specific, however, there are markets on Draylax and just across the neutral zone in Romulan space," Dempsey remarked

"Oh, that's lovely," Gervase grumbled. "Figures that a monster would have the Romulans on the buddy list."

Trip tapped his finger on the edge of the work bar. "T'Pol, maintain your course and heading. We'll go ahead, take a defensive position and get a handle on the tactical situation."

"I'll notify Captain Pearson on Darlington and the Andorian's of the situation," T'Pol stated not skipping a beat.

"Helm," Tucker said keying the communication panel at the work bar. "Take us to maximum warp."

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Commander T'Pol stepped through the hatch in Engineering and had a moment of déjà vu flush over her. Over the years, she had entered Engineering on Enterprise plenty of times to speak to Commander Tucker … some official visits but many times they were merely a social call. _Trip thinks the feeling of the engine room evokes certain memories, _she reflected as her eyes trailed around the room. Physically this room was identical to the engine room on Enterprise. _Is it the similarities of this room or the odors that are drawing me? _She questioned as an image of nuzzling against Trip and smell of engine grease filling her nose fluttered through her mind. She blinked, trying to clear her head. _Perhaps my condition is making me nostalgic, _she scolding herself as she looked around the room.

"Commander?" Chief Freddie Alvarez called to her from the diagnostic panel on warp engine. "Looking for someone?"

"Yes, Chief," T'Pol replied reigning in her … thoughts. "I was looking for you."

"Ah me...ma'm?" Alvarez replied somewhat shocked. "Are you sure you aren't looking for the lieutenant?"

"No," T'Pol remarked stepping over to the bottom of the platform. "Ensign Miner informed me you would have some tactical data that would be helpful in the upcoming days."

"Ensign Miner huh?" Alvarez rolled his eyes and climbed down from the platform. "Everything is in my report Commander," he replied gruffly as he walked down the side of the engine to a monitoring station.

"I'm looking for information that you didn't put in your report," T'Pol stated following the chief as he walked. She watched him eye her warily.

"What makes you think I held something back?"

T'Pol relaxed her shoulders and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. "I've been around a few quarter-masters in my time in Starfleet, Chief," she commented quietly. "They, like the head cook in the galley, are in the unique position to see observe characteristics and behaviors of people that may prove important in situations such as the one we are about to face." She crossed her arms at her chest and projected an unspoken aura that said _I know you know something about the crew so spill your guts before beat it out of you. _

Alvarez was quiet for a moment as he mulled over his response. "Ah," he finally mumbled not sure how to respond to her. "Are you looking to me to _rat out _my fellow crew Commander?" he asked adjusting regulators on the console.

"This isn't an inquisition Chief," she remarked dropping her arms casually. "I'm merely trying to understand the dynamics as we prepare to mount our rescue." She inclined her head to the left. "In case we need to leave anyone behind," she added deadpan.

The comment caught Alvarez off guard. "Huh?" he stammered looking over at her. "You'd la…" he stopped sharply when he watched T'Pol arch her brow at him. "Aren't you the jokester?" he laughed looking back at the console.

"I've found infusing humor into certain conversations cuts the ice, so to speak," T'Pol explained when she knew he was on her wavelength.

"Perceptive… and unexpected," Freddie replied logging off the station. "Well, I could use a break," he commented motioning to the door.

00-00

Trip paced around the helm station deep in thought. Phoenix had arrived in the sector fifteen minutes ago and had taken a defensive position behind a moon cluster about a parsec from the planet. The intelligence from the Andorians seemed to hold merit. Two Naree vessels and two smaller ships of unknown origin were in orbit above the planet.

"Ensign Messer?" Trip looked back to the tactical station for an update.

"The two larger ships are armed to the gills sir," Messer replied transferring some data to the console Tucker was standing by. "The smaller ships have armaments similar to our pods."

"I've scanned for any transponder signatures, but either we're too far away or they've been disabled." Ensign Braidi, the comm officer said mindlessly.

"We're too far away," both Tucker and Rybaiski replied in unison.

"We need to get closer," Rybaiski added looking over at Tucker.

"I'm not taking the ship in there," Tucker remarked. "We can hold out for Columbia to catch up."

"Is that the conservative Tucker talking?" Stu joked with him. "I wasn't talking about the ship, I was thinking about a pod. Geri and I can skim along the asteroid field and get a little closer."

"I'm picking up ship movement," Messer interrupted before the captain could respond to his first officer. "One of the smaller ships is heading down toward the planet."

"To do what?" Tucker muttered looking at the scan on the monitor.

"Move the detainees?" Rybaiski replied shrugging his shoulders.

Tucker stepped on the railing of the helm station and punched some keys on the panel to move the sensor data to this station. He didn't like the feel of this, it didn't matter that the intel said they had a day or even a couple of days before the Naree were going to make their move, something didn't feel right. _Maybe Stu should sneak down there in a pod to check things out. Too bad we don't have Dempsey on board … we need a Naree expert about now, _Tucker thought drumming his fingers on the console. _A Naree expert, _Trip repeated in his head as he looked up at the chronometer. _Zero one fifteen, _he thought biting his lip. _Fuck it, this is more important. _He keyed up the communication array at the helm station. "Bridge to Commander Sato."

Stu looked at the captain with a puzzled expression on his face. "What?' he questioned when Tucker finally glanced his way.

Tucker held his hand up just as Hoshi's groggy voice came through the speaker.

"Hoshi, report to the command center immediately. Bring Riley with you," Tucker instructed clearing the line.

"Riley?" Stu implored. "Wanna clue me in on where you're going with this?"

"Ensign Braidi, join us in the Command Center," Tucker said looking up at the comm officer. "Mr. Messer, wake Lieutenant Haas and have him report to the Com Center on the double. Transfer that data downstairs," he added motioning to Stu to follow Braidi down the ramp. Once the three of them had cleared the door at the bottom of the ramp, Tucker explained the Riley factor.

"Riley is familiar with the Naree," Trip said as he helped Braidi bring the data up on the main viewer. "She's been on their ships."

"Yeah and she practically hyperventilates at the mere mentioned of the word," Stu remarked defensively.

"I don't need to be reminded Stu, I've lived through a few of her panic attacks. Right now, she's the in-house expert," Trip replied leaning against the work bar. "She'll be okay. It's not like anything is going to happen to her here in the Command Center."

"We're talking about someone who shakes uncontrollably when she sees one of the Tellarites," the lanky first officer snapped back at him.

"The Tellarites are on the same ship as she," Tucker said flatly. "All I'm going to ask her to do is look at the viewer."

00-00

"T'Pol to Commander McCann."

Catch looked up from the Captain's Chair on Columbia and scanned the bridge crew. Ganzer at the helm, Miner at the comm station and Marcus at tactical, were all going through the paces, business as usual. Despite that two of the three didn't belong there, no one would be the wiser. The integration of the Phoenix and Columbia crew was a seamless transition; all completed without anyone batting an eye or feathers being ruffled.

"McCann here," he said finally keying the comm button in the armrest.

"Report sickbay immediately," she said crisply.

_Great,_ McCann thought knowing her call could only mean one thing. "Ganzer you have the bridge," he said heading for the turbolift. He strode through the door of sickbay a minute later. "Report," he requested instinctively, forgetting for a moment that T'Pol was in charge. The woman barely flinched.

"Commander Sadek is dead," she stated as she turned to face him.

The news slowed his gait and even though he was expected it, he felt some emotion over it. He barely knew Commander Sadek and yet felt connected with him in many ways. This crew, Columbia's crew, had rallied him to it, their will, their survival instinct, their spirit. He was humbled by this group and inspired to boldly face the next obstacle. McCann scanned the eyes of T'Pol and Solon for a sign of understanding, of feeling the same emotion as he, and was met with the same cold stare. _Vulcans, _he muttered in his head realizing it was looking to the wrong people for compassion.

"That's unfortunate," he mumbled aloud. "What …ah," his voice trailed off not sure of what he was about to ask or why. The facts were obvious. The man tried to kill himself rather than face the consequences and he had finally succeeded in his quest. _Coward, _Catch thought reminding himself that no matter how connected he felt to Sadek, his uncle had raised him better than that.

"His brain stopped functioning an hour ago," Solon said emotionless. "There was nothing to be done for him."

McCann looked to his brother in law and noticed fatigue in his eye. "I'm sure you did everything you could," Catch offered as some condolence. He held the man's gaze for a moment before turning to T'Pol. "Did you speak to the chief?"

"Yes," T'Pol replied quickly. "He is ….an interesting individual." T'Pol pulled a PADD out of her pant pocket and handed it to Catch. "I've outlined his observations for your perusal."

"You wrote it down?" Catch remarked scanning the data on the PADD. "That wasn't really necessary."

"Don't flatter yourself Commander," she replied gruffly. "I cataloged it for Lieutenant Montag. I am merely providing you a copy out of courtesy. If we locate Major Davenport, he will need to be separated from the rest of the crew."

"The chief confirmed Ensign Miner's statement?" Catch muttered shoving the PADD in his leg pocket.

"According to Chief Alvarez, Major Davenport liked to engage in quid pro quo on a regular basis," T'Pol remarked. "Mainly with the female crew.

"That's lovely," Catch said shaking his head. He twisted his lips in a disgusted expression. "Nice way to use the position against the junior officers."

"Perhaps he was manipulating more than the junior officers," Solon remarked with a tilt of his head. When he noticed the perplexed expression on T'Pol's face he further explained himself. "Many are questioning the Captain's decisions. It is likely if Major Davenport was influencing her as well."

"Perhaps." "Maybe." T'Pol and McCann answered at the same time.

"Phoenix just sent word they are in position," McCann added. "We'll catch up with them in a couple of hours."

"And Darlington?"

"Eighteen hours behind us," Catch replied. "They've slowed to warp five five. Pearson was afraid the engines were going to blow."

"Unlikely," T'Pol remarked. "The engine on the class starship can run at maximum warp for well over a week."

"Haven't they been traveling at high warp for over a week?" Solon asked from his workstation at the side of the room.

T'Pol was silent as she contemplated his words. "Perhaps. However this is no time to be slowing down."

"Well, better to slow down and have a leg to stand on rather than to burn it out getting to the fight," Catch said. He jumped up on a biobed and trailed his glance from Solon to T'Pol. "I think we're going to need all the backup we can get."

"Under estimating the Captain," Solon remarked dryly. "Not a wise choice."

"Captain Tucker is familiar with doing more with less," T'Pol concurred.

"I'm not criticizing the Captain Commander," Catch replied abruptly. "Considering a bucket of bolts kicked Phoenix's ass a few months ago I hardly think we should be under estimating what a handful of warships can do." McCann watched T'Pol's expression as she struggled to get her emotions in check. _Is she defending her man or concerned that I'm taking a pop shot at the captain? _Catch wondered. He had worked with her for over a year and yet she still managed to stump him with her varied responses. _She doesn't rein it in very well for someone who's not supposed to have emotions. __Maybe it's that female thing, of course, she did just go through the Vulcan thing, _Catch mused looking down at the floor.

"I would hardly classify the ship that attacked Phoenix a bucket of bolts," T'Pol replied coolly. "In fact, if I'm not mistaken, Phoenix was attacked by two vessels."

"Exactly my point," Catch replied nodding his head. "This is why I said we're going to need all the backup we can get."

"Precisely," T'Pol replied crossing her arms at her chest.

_What was that, _Catch thought with a perplexed expression on his face. He watched as T'Pol turned on her heel and exited the room. Catch shot Solon a confused glare and watched his brother-in-law shrug. "Did I miss something?" he muttered under his breath.

"No," Solon replied frankly. "It is pointless to try to figure a woman out."

"Speaking from experience?" McCann chuckled.

"My wife was quite annoying at times," Solon replied solemnly.

"She probably thought the same thing about you, you know," Catch chuckled jumping off the biobed.

"Perhaps," Solon agreed.

"Must be that female thing," Shane muttered under his breath. "Birdie has been a freak the past few days."

"Pregnancy changes a woman," Solon remarked.

"I don't remember her being so … moody last time."

"Last time you were safely on Earth enveloped in the excitement of a child. Today you are both serving on a starship trying to figure out how much this is going to screw up your careers," Solon informed him. "Different dynamics completely."

"Hmmph," Shane grunted. "I guess that about sums it up." Shane walked to the end of the biobed and tapped his hand on the edge of it. "Do you have an opinion about what I should do?"

"As the temporary CMO on Columbia or as your family member?" Solon asked walking toward his workstation.

"Both."

The Vulcan said nothing as he keyed some data into the computer. "At the moment I do not have an opinion about your situation," he finally offered. "On either front."

Shane rolled his eyes and chuckled. "That wasn't what I was expecting," he replied slowly.

"Men are as complicated as women," Solon remarked turning slightly to look at the commander.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" McCann asked just as his communicator chirped.

"Just something to consider," Solon remarked arching his brow.

Catch pulled his communicator out of his pocket and started to head for the door. "I'll take that under advisement," he said over his shoulder before he answered the device.

00-00

Riley rubbed her hands across her upper arms as she followed Commander Sato down the corridor to the Command Center. She was sick to her stomach about what had just happened to her. It had been a long time since she was rousted from her sleep and marched to the Captain's or the Mistress's office. In the past, the act would have only meant one thing, one expectation from her and she would have delivered without hesitation. In some cases, she may even have enjoyed it as it offered her some freedom and pampering that she rarely ever had.

It wasn't that day anymore, so to be pulled from her sleep by a ranking officer and taken to a restricted area of the ship was a little discerning. Riley couldn't even put her finger on the emotions that were rolling through her system. She could feel her heart pounding in her ear and she shivered from either the cold or the anxiety of her situation. Her life since coming aboard Phoenix had been regimented and safe and was a link that she shared with the rest of the crew. Ironically, she didn't feel any of those things right now. She was scared to death of what was going to happen once she walked through the Command Center door.

Riley watched as Commander Sato stepped up to the retinal scanner and noticed the door magically slid open. She stood in the doorway hesitantly and looked into the darkened room before Sato put her hand on her shoulder and ushered her in. The words Hoshi whispered in her ear did little to make Riley feel comfortable or stop the pounding in her ear or her hands from shaking.

The room or the Command Center as Hoshi had called it was as foreign to her as the whole ship was those first few days. Three of the four walls were covered with computers, panels and monitors. There was huge square table in the middle of the room where Captain Tucker and Commander Rybaiski were standing. Ensign Braidi worked at a console directly in front of them and Lieutenant Haas stood at the computer wall on the port side of the room.

"Oh, there you are," Captain Tucker said when he finally looked back at the door. "Welcome to the Command Center," he added walking over to her. "Sorry I woke you up, but this is important."

Riley watched him with wary eyes. "Captain," she whispered as she stood there. "Am I in trouble?" she asked quietly when he got closer. She couldn't shake the nervous sick feeling in her gut.

"No," Tucker replied. "We need your help with something. Lieutenant, could you get Riley something warm to drink? Maybe a hot chocolate."

Riley turned her head to watch Lieutenant Haas walked to the drink dispenser just as Tucker put his hand on her shoulder and directed her to a stool at the large table in the middle of the room.

"Have a seat," Trip said helping her into the chair.

"What's going on?" Riley asked looking around the room. The lights and the beeps were all a blur to her as she tried to understand what the captain would need her to help with. _Why is David here? _she questioned as she watched him set the cup in front of her.

"Relax," Tucker said quietly. "You're freaking out over nothing." He stood over, rubbing his hand over her back as he tried to belay her fears.

"I don… I don't understand what I'm doing here," she stammered looking up at him. "Where I'm from you only get drug out of bed in the middle of the night for one thing." She felt a tear roll out of her eye and cursed herself silently.

"When you work for Starfleet and live on a ship the captain reserves the right to wake people out of a sound sleep whenever he sees fit to _work_…real work,_" _Stu informed her handing her a tissue. "Right Commander?" Stu prompted Hoshi.

"Yes," Hoshi agreed.

"He just woke me up," Lieutenant Haas chimed in. "And he didn't offer me any hot chocolate."

"Everyone is free to have hot chocolate," Tucker replied with a smirk. Tucker pulled up a stool next to Riley and sat down. "We need your help with something," he said to Riley again. "I want to show you some video to see if you recognize anything."

"Okay," Riley said tentatively. She felt Tucker squeeze her hand and she took a deep breath. She knew he was trying to make her feel better, but Riley was suspicious of the intentions. She looked around the room wildly and noticed the colors beginning to blur. Her chest felt heavy with a suffocating pressure as her breathing became labored. Riley could hear Tucker talking distantly saying words that barely meant anything to her. Columbia, abducted, rescue….

"Riley!"

It was Tucker's voice calling to her as she tried to focus on just the top of the table. _Snap out of it! _she scolded herself. _Why can't I trust when he says that I'm safe? _"I'm okay," she mumbled reaching for the cup of hot chocolate. The sugary warm liquid flooded her mouth as she gulped it down.

"Are you sure?" Rybaiski asked her from across the table.

Riley looked up at him and to her left where the captain was sitting. She realized he was still holding her hand and his expression was relaxed, which somehow made her feel slightly better. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haas and Sato standing to her right. She swallowed hard and tried to pull it together. They needed her to help them with something and it was time to step up to the plate. "Yeah, I'm just nervous," she replied softly.

"Wha'd'eye tell you about that?" Tucker reminded her. "You're safe here. Nothing is bad is going to happen to you, not in this room, not on the ship and definitely not with the four of us around you."

"I know … it's just," she mumbled biting her lip. "Bad habit."

"One we need to break," Lieutenant Haas said firmly walking toward her. "You're made of stronger stuff," he whispered in her ear.

"Pascale can you cue up the clip?" Tucker asked Braidi to move it along.

He tapped a button on the table and a monitor popped out of the flat surface right in front of Riley's seat. She stared at in cautiously as the screen flickered to life. Riley held her breath as the image of the Naree ships flooded the viewer.

"Do you recognize the ships?" Trip asked.

Riley sucked in some air and felt her body begin to tremble. Her eyes were glued to the screen as images of her past replaced the video clip on the viewer. "They are Naree. The smaller ones belong to hunters."

"Hunters?" Stu questioned.

"They chase slaves," Riley said. She felt Tucker's grip on her hand tighten and she blinked to wash away the memory.

"Chase slaves like how?" Stu asked leaning into the table. "Slaves that run away?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes they bring in new ones," Riley replied looking over the top of the monitor at him. "A hunter found me when they went to collect a debt with my former owner." She pulled her hand from Tucker's and wrapped her arms tightly around her chest.

"Where do they take them?" Lieutenant Haas asked.

Riley glanced at him standing on her right. The light from the console behind him illuminated his military buzz cut like a halo and gave her some odd sense of comfort. "Sometimes they are delivered to the mistress and sometimes they are taken to be sold…."

"At a slave market," Tucker finished her sentence. He stood from the table and looked over to Rybaiski. "Get a team together and take a pod to get closer."

Riley watched the commander nod and walk quickly to the door. "Wait," she blurted out before he could hit the control pad. "You should take Corporal Kuhlie," she added turning toward the door.

"Why?" Tucker asked her with a perplexed expression on his face.

"The Naree aren't used to seeing humans, but if they saw an Andorian it wouldn't be a big deal," she said looking from Rybaiski to the captain.

"Not to arouse suspicion?" Rybaiski commented. Riley nodded in agreement.

"Good idea," Tucker said.

"Bad idea. Protocol is at least four security officers on a team and there are only two Andorian's on board, Kuhlie and Navalle," Haas remarked. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Everyone else is on Columbia."

"Then take two Tellarites," Riley argued. She caught the three men exchange glances over her head. "Look, I'm not saying it just because I don't like them. Take whoever you want … just as long as they aren't human." She slumped back into the chair and stared at the floor. "It will buy some time."

"Andorians and Tellarites on the same shuttle? Would that be normal?" Hoshi asked from the monitoring station in the forward section of the room.

"Traders would team up like that sometimes," Riley half mumbled from her seat. _They ask me to come here to help them and then they don't listen to me! _she thought swinging in her seat. _So why ask in the first place? _She made eye contact with the captain for a moment before looking away.

"Make it happen," Tucker remarked. "And quick."

Riley looked at Tucker with a perplexed expression on her face as Rybaiski bolted from the room. She heard Commander Sato on the comm requesting Navalle, Kuhlie and a couple of names she didn't recognize to report to launch bay three. She watched Lieutenant Haas walk back to the monitors on the port wall.

"Surprised you didn't I?" Tucker asked patting her on the shoulder.

"A little," she replied looking up at him. "I don't understand why … why me?"

"You're the in-house expert. Our people are being held by the Anoree," Trip said walking behind her. "We received intelligence information that the Naree were planning an attack on the compound. In order for us to rescue them, I'm going to need to know everything that you can remember so I can understand it and put it into play."

"Like a member of the team?" Riley asked suddenly feeling a sense of purpose that she hadn't felt for a long time.

"Yes, Crewman O'Mara," Tucker replied with a smile. "You're not just a passenger anymore."

tbc


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Ensign Kelly Morgan limped into the dormitory and scanned the bunks. Nearly all contained a slumbering body. She could hear the muffled breathing from the crew in the air. She stumbled across the room to Ichara's bunk, clutching her side with her hand. Kelly tripped as she passed by the captain's bed and she collapsed, landing hard on one knee.

"Ow!" she cried out as she tried to catch herself. It did no good. The jarring pain on her knee shot through her body like a bullet. After a second, it mixed in with the rest of the raw feelings exuding from her nerves and became nothing more than an annoying burn in her lungs. Kelly gritted her teeth as she tried to push herself back to a standing position and then after a second, she just gave up.

"Ensign?" the graveled female voice called from behind her head.

Kelly turned to look in the direction of the voice and met the eyes of her captain. She held her gaze for a moment and realized for the first time in days the warmth that filled them. "Sorry Captain," she muttered. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't … wha, what happened to you?" the woman questioned as her eyes settled on Kelly's face.

_My face, _Kelly cursed. The "game" the guard had chosen to play included using Kelly's face as a punching bag. _Among other things, _she reminded herself as she brushed a hand across her lip. "It's nothing ma'm," she replied trying to downplay however it looked.

"It doesn't look like nothing Ensign," Hernandez replied trying to push herself up on her side.

"Respectfully ma'm, you don't look much better," Kelly remarked with a half smile.

"I suppose you're right," Hernandez said running her hand over Kelly's cheek.

Kelly closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of the captain's touch. Despite the torture they all had endured, the captain's hands were surprising soft. _And warm, _Kelly noted although she was sure it had to do more with Hernandez's body temperature than some misplaced feeling of compassion.

"I'm not going to let them get the best of me ma'm," Kelly whispered as she opened her eyes and held Hernandez's gaze. "I've made it this far. I'm not going to let them take my spirit."

"You keep believing that ensign," Hernandez replied. "They can't steal our will."

Kelly leaned her head against the framing of the bunk and stared blindly at the floor. The captain's words gave her little comfort, as she was barely holding it together. For a brief moment tonight as she stared up at the starscape, she felt free and relaxed. Then as quickly as she felt safe, the rug was ripped from her grasp again.

The guard never gave a clue as to the reason for his anger before rushing Morgan or Lake down the hall. He certainly got his perverse pleasure out of beating and violating them in front of each other. Lake took the brunt of a lot more physical punishment as he shouted at the guard to leave Kelly alone. Then she watched helplessly as Lake was stunned into submission and dragged away.

Kelly shook her head trying to clear the image from her mind. It was no different that what had happened to Trey just days ago and just like Trey, Kelly knew in her heart that she would never see Lake again. _Another victim of this prison, _she mused as a tear ran down her face. _Someday, we will all just be victims. _

00-00

"I'm tracking a ship just leaving the planet surface," Corporal Kuhlie reported from the starboard side of the pod.

Commander Rybaiski tapped a few buttons on his panel and stared at the engine signature. They had launched from Phoenix over twenty minutes ago and were skimming along the edge of an asteroid field trying to gather tactical data. "I think that's the same ship we were tracking earlier," he said at he squinted at the data. He shifted in his seat and tried to stretch his shoulders a bit.

"Are you okay Commander?" Navalle, the Andorian female, asked from the back of the pod.

"If you must know, no," Stu said turning his chair and pulling his legs out from underneath the console. "I'm a little squished. These pods weren't designed for a guy that is a hundred and ninety centimeters."

"You think it's any better up here in the pilot seat?" commented a male voice from the helm station of the pod.

Rybaiski scowled at the male in the forward section. The pilot for this covert mission was a Tellarite exchange officer that many on the ship had affectionately nicknamed Maury. The man was half Rybaiski's height, which made the prospect of his legs, arms or any part of his anatomy being smashed in the less than spacious pod unlikely. _Unless you count his pouch, _Stu reminded himself. True to any Tellarite Stu had seen in a photo or video clip, the guy had a beer gut that would make a truck-driver proud. "Yeah, actually … the pilot seat would at least give me someplace to stretch my legs."

"The back seat would give me a place to rest my pouch," Maury snarked back at him shrugging his shoulders.

"Just let me know when you're ready to switch," Rybaiski grumbled as he tried to stand up. "Ouch!" he yelped when he hit his head on the ceiling.

The laughter of the four crew members that made up his team reduced his aggravation to a chuckle. The two Andorian females, Navalle and Kuhlie, who were part of the MACO security team and two male Tellarites, Maury and Kopat, both serving dual roles in engineering and security complimented this awkward band of brothers. Besides Rybaiski, Maury had the only helm rating of the group and at Tucker's insistence was currently piloting the ship. Navalle and Kopat sat quietly in the back playing with their firearms while Kuhlie and Stu monitored the sensor displays.

"I'm picking up Starfleet transponders on that ship," Kuhlie announced over the laughter. "Two, three …four," she added as her hands flew across the console. Her antennae stood straight up indicative of her excitement.

"Life signs?" Rybaiski asked as he tried to fold his body back into the seat.

"Two males, two females," Kuhlie rattled off almost like a machine. "I've got two other humanoid signatures, male and female, all in the same area of the ship."

"Naree?" Kopat asked jumping out of his seat and stepping behind Kuhlie. He reached over her head to punch some buttons on the console. "It looks like there are four Naree on board. Four of them, five of us, the odds are in our favor."

"We're not making any hostile moves until I contact Phoenix," Stu said firmly turning to open a comm line.

"Ah na na na no," Maury yelled out as his furry hands flew frantically across his console. "That ship is powering engines. They're preparing to go to warp!"

"Crap!" Rybaiski cursed. "Set an intercept course!" he ordered as he scrambled to come up with a plan. _So much for no hostile moves! The Naree are not getting away with any of our crew! _He stumbled backward as the pod accelerated barely catching himself from falling right into Navalle's lap.

"Hang on!"

Rybaiski lost his battle to stay upright as Maury rolled the pod over on its back. Stu crashed to the deck and rolled toward the aft section. He felt the thud of Navalle's weight on his legs just as the ship rolled over again. "Geezus Maury!" he screamed bouncing off the bench and landing face down on the floor. Two seconds later he heard the sickening screech of metal against metal, felt the pod bounce off something very hard and veer in the opposite direction.

"Frick!" Stu cursed as he rolled over and stared at the ceiling. He heard the communications array ping from an incoming transmission. Before Stu's brain could tell his neurons to fire, he heard Maury answer the hail in uncensored and untranslated Tellarite. "What the frick?" Stu mumbled as he struggled to sit up.

"Stay down," Navalle shushed him pushing his shoulder down to the deck plating. "He's cursing out the Naree for disrupting his flight path," she whispered hoarsely in his ear as she pressed her body against his.

Rybaiski was pinned between Navalle and the bulkhead. He held his breath while Maury engaged the Naree pilot in a verbal volley of insults and puns. It wasn't long before Kopat joined his fellow Tellarite to 'gang up' on the Naree and overload the poor fellow with accepting guilt for everything that was wrong in the galaxy. The whole time Kuhlie stood directly behind Maury brandishing her weapon in an intimidating pose.

"He just asked the Naree if he knows where the nearest slave market is," Navalle whispered to Stu in a husky voice. "He said he needs to purchase slaves for a mining operation on a nearby moon."

Stu propped himself up on his shoulder and looked down at Navalle's face, taking in every detail of her features. Her skin was flawless. Her lashes flicked delicately over her eyes as she blinked and her lips were full and lush. Everything was so inviting, even her minty fresh breath. It didn't escape Stu that Navalle still rested her hand on his chest and that her leg had mysteriously found its way between his. He could feel the heat her body was generating and it didn't take long to catch his body responding in kind. Ever since Dempsey had been assigned to Phoenix, Stu had been intrigued with the Andorians, especially the females. It didn't help matters that Demps had told him of their voracious appetites in the bed chambers. Before he could stop himself, he ran his hand tentatively down the side of her thigh, then moved it quickly to his phase pistol when she eyed him questioningly.

"Sorry," he whispered waving his hand at his holster. "It was digging into my leg," he added trying to cover up his indiscretion. Navalle smiled and said nothing, as if she knew he was just trying to cop a feel. _That was stupid Romeo, _he berated himself mentally as he peered around Kuhlie's seat toward the forward section of the pod. In a second he heard Kuhlie, Kopat and Maury break into a sadistic chorus of laughter and heard an odd metallic clinking coming from the front. He glanced back at Navalle with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Latinum," she whispered inclining her head toward the Tellarites. "Maury just offered the Naree double what he'd get for the slaves at the market. They're motivated to take him up on the offer."

Stu nodded and listened carefully at the laughter echo off the walls of the pod. His mind raced a million miles a second as he contemplated Tucker's reaction from the Command Center. He glanced up at Kuhlie's console and noticed the flashing red light that indicated a live feed to Phoenix. He could only imagine what Trip would have to say about ramming the Naree shuttle. _I can barely believe that Maury did it! Sure I gave the order to intercept ….but ramming their ship wasn't part of the equation, _Stu thought in retrospect. _It's hardly what I would consider protocol, although nothing about this mission falls under any standard operating procedure. _

"Commander, we're making the deal," Kuhlie reporting looking down at Rybaiski.

"You carry latinum in your pocket?" Rybaiski asked from the floor.

"Some carry stun grenades …. Tellarites carry...ah what do your people call it? _Green backs_? You never know when making a deal is going to get you outta a situation," Maury replied making a motion with his upper torso that vaguely resembled a shrug. "I'm not going to give it to him obviously. It's just for show."

"What's the plan?" Kopat questioned the group.

"What plan?" Stu replied crawling out of Navalle's grasp and pushing himself off the bulkhead.

"What? Do I have to do all the work?" Maury replied from the helm. "You need to think of something quick because that Naree ship is going to be all over our shit in less than two minutes."

"Crap," Stu muttered stepping back to the workstation behind the helm. "I could use some help here," he said aloud knowing damn well that Tucker was listening.

"Commander," Tucker's voice boomed across the comm line on cue. "Riley thinks that class of ship produces a toxic gas in the exhaust that has to be properly vented into space."

"Properly vented eh?" Rybaiski repeated looking over to Kopat.

"We could rig the vents to back up into the living areas," Kopat remarked heading toward the tool kit at the rear of the shuttle. "Make it look like a system malfunction."

"How long will that take?" Rybaiski asked as he watched Navalle pull some extra weapons from the storage locker under the bench seat. _If I was familiar with the ship I could do it in three minutes, maybe four running cold, _he thought smugly.

"Four or five minutes," Kopat replied shrugging his burly shoulders. "Seven tops."

"Seven?" Rybaiski exclaimed as he shoved a stun grenade in the pocket of his BDU's.

"Yeah, seven Commander," Kopat growled looking up at the lanky senior officer. His nostrils flared open in annoyance. "What's the big deal? The crew will be unconscious anyway."

"The big deal Officer Kopat is that we get in and get out cleanly and without raising any suspicion," Tucker's voice sliced through the airwaves. "You're already behind the eight-ball on this reconnaissance mission the way the hand's been played."

Rybaiski heard Kopat reply meekly. It wasn't just Kopat the captain was dressing down … the writing between the lines was crystal clear. _Your fuck-up and lack of creative thinking isn't an award winning performance for the first officer candidate. Frak this up and you'll be swabbing the deck for the rest of your career. _Rybaiski sighed heavily and shook his head. "Maury and Kuhlie go through the airlock first. Kopat and Navalle follow, I'll be on your six," Rybaiski directed slamming a stun grenade into the utility pocket on his sleeve.

00-00

_It's moving again, _Crewman Brice Lake thought as the engines began to whine. _Moving to the final resting place? _he asked himself as he tried to scan the small room. His left eye was swollen shut and the vision in his right eye was blurred making whatever details he tried to focus on a lost cause. _And that's the least of my injuries, _he wheezed as he struggled to take another breath.

The guard had beaten the living pulp out of him. He was sure his left arm, wrist and hand were broken as well as his collarbone, shoulder blade, ribs, nose and jaw. _I guess I could say some of that was my fault, _Brice reasoned with himself. His fault for sticking up for his crew mate and friend, though in retrospect he was sure Kelly got some sort of sick pleasure out of the guard's contact with her. _So much for her claims of only giving them lap dances! _Brice surmised. In his opinion, Ensign Morgan seemed a little too experienced making the adjustment to the guard. _But, who am I to talk? I could bitch all day about going to the rec room, but screwing that cute slave girl Callee was hot. _

Brice pushed himself against a hard surface and listened for sounds in the room. _There are people in here with me, at least two, maybe more, _he noted as he zeroed in on the cadence of the muffled breathing. It wasn't long before the engines began to power down. The tell-tale clunk of an airlock making contact with metal startled him and for the first time in days he felt fear and anxiety building up in his chest. _The moment of truth, _he thought as his ears tuned into any sound from the corridor.

A few minutes after the airlock connected Crewman Lake heard an explosion and shouting from the level above. Heavy footsteps running down the corridor was followed with the sound of phase fire and the thud of bodies hitting the deck plating. The screech of the rusty door as it was shoved open startled him and before he could tell his body to react, a hand was poking him on the shoulder.

"Crewman? Can you hear me?" the disembodied female voice called to him. The voice was close and in English … at least it seemed to be.

"Yeah," he whispered barely audible. _This person just called me crewman? _Lake questioned as he tried to wrap his brain around the statement.

"Crewman Lake! Can you stand?" A male voice with a thick accent asked from above his head.

"I can't see," Brice stammered, biting his tongue in the process. He took a couple of labored breaths. "How do ya…?" Brice's voice trailed off as he desperately tried to make sense of things. _Am I dreaming? _

"We scanned your dog tag," the female replied. "He's pretty banged up. His left shoulder and arm is busted among other things. What about the others?"

"The lieutenant is unconscious and will need to be carried," another female voice answered. "The rest can walk."

"Let's move," the male voice commanded as heavy steps headed toward the door.

"Come on, let me help you up," the female voice in front of him commented. "It's time to go home."

_Scanned my dog tag, _Lake repeated in his head. The sound of weapons being unshethed and the clink of stun grenades flood his senses. _It's time to go home? "_You'll get no arguments from me_,"_ Brice mumbled in reply. He felt an arm slide around his waist and help him into a standing position. "I was ready to go home a couple of weeks ago," he added as he was guided through the darkness.

00-00

Trip ran his tongue across the inside of his mouth and stared blankly at the monitor on his desk. The summary of the medical reports on Lake, Burrows, Colloway and Chu hung merciless on the screen in front of him. The laundry list of injuries detailed brutal torture that those four members of Columbia's crew had endured. _That's only four … what are the rest going through? _he questioned as he ran his hand over his mouth. The impromptu rescue mission that Rybaiski embarked on was not without causalities. Officer Maury, the Tellarite engineering tech and Lieutenant j.g. Erin Colloway were killed after a firefight with Naree guards.

Trip scrolled down the page to read Corporal Navalle's report on the incident. After clearing the airlock on the premise of a monetary trade for the slaves, the Naree guards were dispatched with a stun grenade. Kopat and Rybaiski proceeded to the engine room to disable the ship, while Kuhlie, Navalle and Maury completed a deck sweep for the detainees. The holding cells were located on the lower decks. After triaging the crew, Maury had handed Colloway a phase pistol and then called for a retreat to their point of ingress.

_That's when the shit hit the fan, _Trip noted nodding his head. One of the Naree guards had regained consciousness and lay waiting for the team's return. Maury was on point and took the first blast in the chest, which killed him instantly. Lieutenant Colloway provided cover fire for Kuhlie and Navalle as they deposited the injured into a protected corner and got into position to remove the threat. They never had an opportunity to finish it however; Colloway took a fatal hit just as the Andorians were getting into position. As she took her final breaths, she managed to take out the Naree guard and end the threat at the airlock.

_Died fighting for her freedom, _Trip surmised pulling up her service record. _Like so many soldiers before her. Maury died protecting the weak. A hero's death. _"Not that it makes it better or easier to tell their families," he said aloud. The door chimed interrupted him before he could throw anything. "Enter," he called out as his eyes were drawn magnetically back to the screen.

"Captain," Commander Rybaiski greeted Tucker as he walked through the door. Trip looked up and watched Hoshi enter quietly behind him.

"What'd'ya find out?" Tucker asked leaving Colloway's service record up on his screen. His two senior officers had been questioning the humanoids they had rescued to find any information about the compound.

"Not much unfortunately. The translator had problems locking on to their syntax so Hoshi had to do it the ole fashion way," Rybaiski remarked collapsing into the chair across from the captain's desk.

"The female is Callee, the male N'vord. They're siblings. They were abducted from their home world about five years ago and have been at the compound four months. I showed Callee Crewman Lake's photo and she said the group was big when they first arrived," Hoshi reported looking over toward Stu.

"But isn't so big now," Stu finished the thought for her.

Tucker eyed his two senior staff members carefully. He knew what that meant but felt the need to ask anyway. "Why?"

"She said they fought with the guards and were disciplined," Hoshi replied flatly looking anywhere but his eyes. They all knew the implications of the statement and no one needed to vocalize it further.

"Speaking of Crewman Lake, how are they?" Stu asked after an awkward silence had settled in the room.

"Not good," Trip remarked ruefully. "Lake and Burrows have severe skull fractures. McCann just took Burrows into surgery to do …. something to relieve the inter-cranial pressure," Trip said with an upturned lip. "One of the med techs repaired a detached retina in Lake, but at this point it's uncertain whether he'll ever regain his sight in his left eye." Tucker sighed heavily and shook his head. "That barely scratches the surface of their injuries. Chu is in better condition which I guess is some consolation," he replied minimizing the screen on his monitor.

"How long until Columbia gets here?" Hoshi asked suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

"They'll be here in two hours."

"Then we can go kick some ass," Hoshi commented glancing at Trip with a sad smile.

Yeah, we'll definitely be kicking some ass," Rybaiski chimed in. "Colloway shot the hell out of that guard that killed Maury," he muttered leaning forward to rest his arms on his legs. "She died fighting … like a hero. Like a lot of Columbia's crew apparently."

"We're going to be avenging all their deaths, trust me," Tucker replied. What he didn't verbalize was how he planned to blow the hell out of the compound after they rescued Columbia. _And the Anoree females being held there, _he reminded himself as an after thought. "I think it's time we get some tactical data from Chu and Lake."

"Lead the way Captain," Rybaiski said.

00-00

"Mistress we'll be at the compound in two hours."

"Have a shuttle prepared and ready to launch the second we arrive," Elnora said crisply into the comm link.

"Yes, Mistress," the invisible voice replied and cut the comm line.

Elnora stalked around her elegant stateroom with the indifference of her royal stature. Despite her father's doubts, her plan had worked. For the first time in over twenty years an Anoree female was pregnant… pregnant by a humanoid and soon would give birth to an Anoree hybrid.

"So much for the faith of my father! The medical critics have nothing on my scientist!" she ranted smugly as she dropped into the chaise lounger at the end of the bed. The attendant that was standing to the side of the room rushed to her side and began to rub her neck.

The comm buzzer went off a second later. "What it is!" she snapped into the air.

"Mistress, we're receiving a hail from Ambassador Gevale," the comm officer from the bridge reported.

"Route it to my stateroom," she ordered shoving the attendant off her. The screen blinked to life a second later. "Father," she greeted the Ambassador the minute he appeared on the screen.

"Elnora," Gevale nodded. "I have some pertinent information to give you about your _little project._"

"Whatever are you talking about father?" Elnora asked sweetly. She batted her eyes for the man and tilted her head with a quizzical expression on her face.

Gevale stared at her in silence for only a moment. "The hybrid project," he replied flatly. "I've informed Jarvick of your failed attempt to produce a hybrid my dear."

Elnora felt her skin flush and her temperature rise by about twenty degrees. "You what?" she screamed into the viewer. "The project was working Father. Anoree females are…."

"Our females are not pregnant by another species Elnora. In fact, they are not pregnant at all. You were fed lies by the people you entrusted … Levine, Atar … They lied to you about everything. The Anoree cannot mate with another species."

"That is a lie! You would say anything to discredit me!" Elnora's scales turned bright purple and stood straight up on her head.

"Elnora," Gevale replied evenly. "Elnora, no one is trying to discredit your attempt to help our people. It was a valiant attempt, but it didn't work. It would have never worked."

"It would have worked!" she sneered into the viewer. "It has worked! The Naree have been producing hybrids for years."

"Elnora, listen to what you are saying! It is impossible for the Naree to reproduce with another species. They have the same genetic makeup as the Anoree," Gevale attempted to explain to her calmly.

'NO! They are not the same! They have the ability to reproduce! Jarvick himself impregnated the slave …a human female. It was carrying his offspring!" Elnora leaned into the monitor, which made her face larger than life. It did little to intimidate her father.

"The slave was not pregnant by your mate my dear. The slave was pregnant by another humanoid sl…."

"Lies Father!" Elnora screamed knocking the monitor right off the wall. She paced furiously around her living quarters. "The slave delivered a Naree hybrid before coming to us."

"The slave delivered a humanoid infant that was genetically altered to appear Naree … just as all the Naree hybrids," Gevale's voice continued to loom on over the audio connection.

"No…that is not…"

"Elnora it is how the Naree have reproduced for years," Gevale interrupted her. "They have always acquired their offspring from slaves and altered the geno."

"**NO!**" Elnora screamed looking down that the broken monitor just as her father's face blinked into the focus.

"Yes my dear," he replied as he looked up at her. "In addition to informing your mate of your failed venture, I also informed Starfleet of the crimes you have committed. They are aware of the location of the compound and are enroute to retrieve their people."

"**You what!" **Elnora yelled and let out a blood-curling scream. "**You will pay for what you have done!**" she proclaimed as she kicked the monitor across the room and ripped the wiring out of the bulkhead.

"You are the only one that will receive the penance you deserve my dear," Gevale replied ruefully as he cut the comm line. "The true punishment for a monster.

tbc


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Anxiety was burning a hole in the pit of his stomach and caused his breathing to be short and quick. His legs wanted to run, but his brain told him go slow, look professional, stay sharp. A flood of thoughts, ideas and worries were cascading relentlessly through his mind fueling his apprehension. He chided himself for letting his imagination get the best of him. He could have been summoned to the department for at least ten different reasons. _Thinking the worst is only going to sink the ship, _the words echoed in his mind as he strode through the door.

_Sink the ship eh? _Trip questioned as he scanned the room known as sickbay. His eyes settled on the biobed that was curtained off on the far side of the room. He walked toward it and peered around the edge carefully. _Oh geezus, _he mumbled wordlessly as his heart sank about three notches.

Fifteen minutes ago things were running status quo. He was standing in the Command Center cleaning up the map that Crewman Lake and Ensign Chu had provided. Stu and Gervase had joined him and the three were engaged in a friendly game of strategy. The bridge had informed them that Columbia had entered orbit and was preparing to dock with the ship. Within five minutes, the calm environment he had come to expect was turned on its axis. _Captain Tucker, report to Columbia's sickbay immediately _the words reverberated in his head like a broken record.

Trip swallowed hard and walked to the side of the biobed. He stared down at the slumbering form of his mate and gently ran his fingers through her hair. _Whoa, that's a bump, _he thought as his fingers brushed against a huge knot on the side of her head. He watched T'Pol's face grimace and her eyes flutter open.

"Hey darlin," he whispered softly looking down into her deep brown eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you," he added sliding his hand down her arm.

"I was resting my eyes," she muttered blinking as the ceiling came into focus.

Trip chuckled at her response. "Checking your lids for holes?" he joked with a smile. He watched her brow furrow with a perplexed expression. "It's an ole human saying when people get caught nodding off on the job."

"At the moment I'm not on the job," she replied crisply.

"Unless you've developed an odd habit for napping in sickbay that I don't know about." Trip could sense her aggravation and ran his fingertips over her ear to comfort her.

"I fainted," she said softly. "I'm merely resting per doctor's orders."

"What about that knot on the side of your head?" Trip asked pulling a stool closer.

"It is nothing," T'Pol attempted to explain. "I bumped it when I fell."

Trip twisted his lips to the side in disbelief. _I wasn't born yesterday you know, I'm no doctor but I can tell the difference between a lil bump and a big one,_ he projected to her through their bond. _There's no way in hell that Solon put you in a hospital gown for something that you think is nothing. _

"I had a sensation of vertigo and I tripped," T'Pol replied aloud reluctantly.

Trip watched her avoid eye contact with him. "And you fell?" he prompted waiting patiently for the rest of the story. T'Pol nodded slowly. "From?" He watched her squirm on the bed. "You don't get a bump that big from falling a couple of feet," he reminded her.

"I was conversing with Lieutenant Dempsey on the upper deck of Engineering. When I started down the stairs, I lost my balance," she finally admitted.

Trip's eyes opened wide in shock as he pictured it in his mind. _That's one hell of a header! _he thought thinking about the angle of the stairs. _And one hell of a landing, _he started to chuckle as he remembered tight quarters on the engineering floor of Columbia.

"Tell me about it," T'Pol muttered aloud. "Not something one can do gracefully." She looked up at him and raised her brow suggestively. "It's nothing to laugh at," she scolding when she noticed the huge grin on his face.

"Huh," Trip grunted trying to cover his giggles just as Solon walked through the curtain. The tall dark haired Vulcan was wearing traditional Earth hospital scrubs and gym shoes. "Doc," Trip greeted him with a nod.

"How the patient?" Solon asked rhetorically.

"I have a slight headache," T'Pol informed him.

"I'm sure you do," Solon replied walking to the monitor next to her bed. He tapped the screen and reviewed the data on it as he talked. "As well as sprained knee, ankle and broken wrist."

"Broken wrist?" Trip questioned glaring at his mate. The funny factor had quickly changed back to concern. "That's what you were blocking from me?" he blurted out. She moved the sheet to reveal the splint on her wrist. He watched as she merely shrugged her shoulders in response to his non-verbal concern. "What else don't I know?" he directed toward the Vulcan doctor.

"She has a concussion."

Trip ran his tongue across the inside of his mouth and stared blankly at the side of the bed. The concussion wasn't that big of surprise considering the welt on her head … the other injuries … _That was one hell of a fall, _he thought careful to block his displeasure with his mate. "And what caused all of this?" Trip asked aloud wrapping his fingers around her hand.

"She is suffering from a chemical imbalance due to her recent condition," Solon replied frankly. "It's fairly common." When he noticed the concerned expression on Tucker's face he continued to explain. "Generally the hormone levels balance out on their own. However, in T'Pol's case, they seemed to linger."

"Wha… what'd'ya mean linger?" Trip asked feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Nothing," T'Pol replied curtly. "Solon is overstating my symptoms."

"I'd hardly call your moodiness the past two days over-stating," Solon remarked frankly. "As would anyone that encountered your wrath." The Vulcan arched his brow and glared down at his patient daring her to protest.

T'Pol rolled her eyes and looked toward the foot of the bed. "I believe that it an exaggeration."

"Shall I request Commander McCann or Chief Alvarez report to sick bay to support my conclusions?" Solon prodded interlacing his hands behind his back.

Trip watched as an expression of defeat crossed his mate's features. "I think we get the point doc," he replied conceding on T'Pol's behalf. "Are you sure it isn't something else? Like…"

"No," T'Pol interrupted him sharply. Her voice was riddled with emotion … and anger.

Solon trailed his gaze from the commander to the captain. It was clear to him that the two were arguing non-verbally. "Are you referring to a possible pregnancy Captain?" he asked knowing full well that was the fuel to T'Pol's anger.

"Is she?" Trip asked tentatively.

"I am not pregnant," T'Pol replied through gritted teeth.

"The commander is correct. She is not pregnant," Solon remarked. "However, based on her symptoms it was one of the first tests that I ran."

"Totally unnecessary," T'Pol growled from the bed.

_Geezus, she's in a mood, _Trip thought rolling his eyes. He looked to Solon for some assist…er guidance. "So what happens now?"

"I've relieved her of duty for the next seventy two hours," Solon replied pulling a PADD out of the pocket of his lab coat. "She is free to leave sick-bay and return to her quarters on _Phoenix_," the Vulcan replied crisply handing the PADD to Tucker to sign off on the release.

The intonation of his voice and then emphasis on which ship's quarters she should return to were silent indications to Tucker that it was pointless to argue with him. _Not that I had planned to, _Trip thought. _Don't you start either, _he projected to her firmly. _It's two against one and you're going to lose. _He looked down at his mate and caught her questioning glare.

"No need to worry, I'll walk to her our quarters myself," Tucker said aloud to Solon. He pressed his thumbprint on the PADD and handed it back to the doctor.

00-00

Twenty minutes later, Trip was breezing through the door of the Command Center to meet with his senior team, McCann, Dempsey, Gervase and Rybaiski, to plan the rescue mission. The banter around the work table teetered between serious and light but ended up accomplishing a lot. An hour later, Tucker brought Captain Pearson on Darlington up to speed on the developments and set the rescue mission into motion. Tucker had no more than closed the comm line when the plan was quickly derailed.

"Bridge to Captain Tucker," the female voice rang through the line

"Tucker here," he replied after keying the comm link on.

"We've got company sir," Ensign Braidi reported from the bridge. "An Anoree vessel just dropped out of warp. It's Elnora's ship."

"Shit," Rybaiski muttered under his breath as he turned to bring the sensor data up on the screen. "That messes with dinner," he added scrambling to adjust the probe's position with the remote controls.

"Ensign get Pearson back on the line," Tucker requested staring up at the monitor.

"Aye sir," Braidi replied.

"Pearson said they would be here in six hours," McCann stated.

"Three if they kick it up to high warp," Dempsey commented. "I could put in a call to the Andorian ships to get on the gas."

"Ensign, are you picking up any comm traffic?" Trip asked Braidi. He stepped up to the work bar and brought the data up on the monitor.

"I have chatter between the Anoree vessel and the compound," Braidi replied. "Seems a little hostile. I'll route it down."

The five men listened to the banter between the compound, Elnora's ship and one of the Naree vessels for a minute. Hostile barely described the language that colored the comm link. "Pascale, did you reach Pearson yet?" Tucker asked the Lebanese comm officer.

"The comm officer on Darlington is reporting that Captain Pearson is speaking to Admiral Cooper sir," Braidi replied. "I've indicated the urgency of your call."

"Taaa," McCann grumbled. "Cooper won't let him off the hook, rescue mission or not,"

"Keep trying Ensign," Tucker replied leaning his hands against the table. He rolled forward on the balls of his feet and balanced his weight against the table.

"We can't wait for Darlington," Rybaiski remarked turning around to face the other officers. "I say we go in now."

"I agree," Gervase and Dempsey said in unison.

"Are you serious?" McCann guffawed. "In case you haven't noticed, it's three against two." His face flushed bright red with annoyance.

"That's quitter talk McCann," Rybaiski retorted. "Take five pods, three of ours, two of Columbia's and run interference while you two start transporting the crew off the surface."

"I'd put Hayden, Watts, Melo, Jankee and Ashton in the pilot seat," Dempsey suggested.

"They're all female," Gervase remarked with a perplexed expression on his face.

"You got something against girls?" Dempsey growled. His antennae lay back on his head noting his annoyance.

"No, I'm just making an observation," Gervase replied with his palms up in a surrender stance.

"They are the best we have that are shuttle rated," Tucker replied. "Ganzer and Sullivan will man the helms on Columbia and Phoenix."

"What if the compound is shielded?" McCann asked playing devil's advocate.

"Gevale's brief didn't mention anything about shielding," Dempsey stated as his antennae dipping forward.

"It also failed to mention the Naree guarding the gate," Tucker reminded them.

"Load each shuttle with a strike team," Gervase said flatly. "Five teams of three or four and we can infiltrate the prison on foot."

"This is dumb," McCann said throwing his hands up in the air. "Darlington can be here in three hours. The Andorian ships are six hours out."

"And with the Naree and Anoree circling the compound, the surviving twenty-some members of Columbia's crew could be dead in ten minutes," Rybaiski argued.

Trip rolled his tongue over the inside of his lip. He pushed off the table and paced around the side of the table. "I am not going to let the Anoree sacrifice any more of our people. We go now. Gervase coordinate with Colonel Lynch and assemble the strike teams. Stu inform sickbay to prepare for incoming and staff the transporters with a capable technician and security personnel. Demps get the pilots in position and help Stu set up temporary quarters on both ships for anyone else we happen to pick up." He heard the three officers acknowledge his request and watched them exit the room before looking over at McCann. "Are you in Commander? If not, I need to know right now," he asked preparing his backup plan in his head.

Catch nodded his head slowly. "I'm with you Captain. It's my job to ask the questions. I've already played the role that Rybaiski's projecting. Back in the day I would have been leaving the captain's chair to lead the strike team." Shane said ruefully. He ran his hand through his short brown hair. "The new and improved Shane McCann is cautious."

"That's understandable Catch. We need a little caution on our side," Trip said crossing his arms at his chest. "I've been that _throw the rule book out the airlock _person too. Rybaiski can give the enemy the run for their money and take the risks with the pods. You and I have a lot more on the line and need to be smarter and more calculated."

Catch tilted his head in thought for a moment. "What's our strategy if the building is shielded?" he asked eyeing his captain suspiciously.

"Find the power source and bomb the hell out of it," Trip replied just as Ensign Braidi informed him that Captain Pearson was pending in the queue.

"And the Naree and Anoree," he asked with a knowing grin.

"Considering what they did to Burrows, Chu and Lake? There are no second chances," Trip replied flatly. "Just remember that Admiral Archer promised Ambassador Gevale we'd save his precious females."

"Let's focus on getting our people back first," McCann nodded and headed for the door. "Then we can do favors for the rest of the universe."

00-00

Shane "Catch" McCann walked down the corridor from Engineering and struggled to conceal a yawn. He had plenty of opportunities to rest over the past few days; the problem was sleep didn't come easy for him. _Not like I don't have some life changing events hanging over my head, _he reminded himself. _I guess I'll sleep when I get home, between changing diapers. _

The baby, the first officer position, the baby, the missing crew … the baby, it all haunted him in his head. _Mostly the baby, _he reiterated. _Prioritize McCann! _he scolded sharply. _Find the Columbia crew then you can spend the trip back to the Starbase thinking about the baby, Birdie and the first officer position. _

_The baby. _It amazed him how the mere mention of the word gave him the chills. _Good chills. Some scared chills. _It seemed like yesterday he held his daughter in his arms as she struggled to take her final breaths. Shane blinked as he remembered the grip the tiny fingers held on his hand and even his heart to this day. _Am I ready to go through all that again? _"It doesn't matter what I want or what I even think that I need. I need to be a father to this child. I want to be a father to this child," he muttered under his breath as he turned the corridor.

Then there was the other unknown, Birdie. They shared a bed nearly every night. She gave herself to him willingly. _Too willingly? _He bit his lip as he ran his hand across the day's growth of stubble on his chin. _I need a shave, _he thought trying to distract himself from the thoughts of making love to his fiancée. _She could have used protection even if she hadn't taken her shot. The day after pill? The 'I need a remedy quick' injection? A tried and true condom? _McCann stepped up to the turbolift and hit the button recalling it to the deck. "I guess I could have been more cautious," he mumbled as the door opened up. "I tell the Captain the new Shane McCann is more cautious, yet I bang Birdie without a glove on my lover? What kind of leader is that?" Shane questioned himself with a heavy sigh

_Then there's that part of my nightmare …am I ready to take the lead on a ship again? _The grim reminder that he was in command on this mission put a knot in his stomach. T'Pol was no longer the buffer between he and the rest of the world, there was no safety net for him to fall into anymore. _It's me and the Captain glaring down my radar screen, _Shane thought as he stepped into the turbolift. He pushed the button for deck four. _And the ghost of Uncle Tony spooking me, _he added leaning his head against the wall. "I screw this up now and the only people I'll be leading are the Salvation Army bell ringers," he whispered aloud to the empty lift just as the door slid open. He paused a moment before stepping out of the car. "And I wonder why I can't sleep at night," he said shaking his head.

McCann walked confidently out of the lift and headed toward the launch bay. His intent was to check on the strike teams as they loaded their gear and then head up to the bridge just in time to shove off. The attack plan was clear in McCann's head and now that his personal worries were stowed for the moment, he could focus on the real crisis. Shane slowed his gait as he approached the launch bay and veered out of the way of a very quick crew member that was hustling to deliver a container of stun grenades to the pods. McCann followed her through the hatch and scanned to bay quickly. As his eyes settled on a familiar red head, he felt anticipation thud through his veins.

Catch walked over to pod two and stood back as the team loaded their gear in the aircraft. He admired Birdie and her efficiency in managing her team. _She's good, _he thought as he watched her interaction with her crew. _She's carrying my child, _he added as his eyes swept across her body and settled on her stomach. _McCann! _He shook his head and focused his thoughts on the conversation around the pod instead of his fiancée's body and his reaction to it.

"…if the compound is shielded, we'll land and attempt to extract the detainee's on foot," Colonel Lynch's voice echoed in his ear. "I'll take point, you bring up our six," Birdie said to Lieutenant Haas.

McCann felt his face flush and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. _Did she just say …? _Shane thought as his mind raced. "Colonel Lynch, could I speak to you a moment?" Catch heard himself say before he had even realized it.

Birdie looked in his direction and then glanced back at Haas. "Pull it together Lieutenant," she said. "I'll be back in a moment."

Shane could feel Birdie following him without looking back. They had barely stepped through the hatch when he turned on her. "What are you doing?" he snapped.

"Getting ready for my mission Commander," Colonel Lynch replied slowly.

"Your mission? You mean the team's mission?" McCann questioned her. "You're not actually going … right?" Shane stated crossing his arms at his chest.

"I'm leading team four," Birdie replied.

"No you're not."

"I don't understand Commander," Birdie mumbled in confusion. "Captain Tuc..."

"Are you serious?" Shane guffawed. "You can't honestly think you can go on this mission?" He dropped his hands to his hips and glared at her. When he caught the perplexed expression on her face he rubbed his hand across his chin again. "Birdie ... seriously, you _cannot_ go on this mission."

"Why not?"

"Why not? You're pregnant!"

"I've been cleared for duty by the CMO," she retorted instantly getting defensive.

"You're cleared for duty … on _Phoenix_ … to delegate to your team or walk the corridors on your security watch or man the tactical station on the bridge and press the fire button a couple of times! I hardly think that you're cleared to sit in a pod that is dodging phase blasts that some lunatic is firing!" Shane growled teetering forward on his toes to tower over her.

Lynch said nothing for a moment as if she was strategizing her rebuttal. Her face and neck had flushed bright red and her whole body had begun to shake. "The Captain is fully aware of my condition and assigned me to lead the ground team," she replied tersely. "So if this is your odd way saying you actually give of shit about this pregnancy and my child, you can stow your misplaced compassion!"

"Excuse me? I do not have any misplaced compassion!" Catch yelled back at her oblivious to the fact they were still standing just outside of the launch bay hatch. "Your pregnancy is one of the only things I think about!"

"One of the only things?" Birdie laughed in his face. "How convenient that you have other things to worry about! What are those? Huh? Your precious career?"

"And you're not thinking about your career?" he argued back. "If our child was that big of concern to you, you wouldn't be going on this mission!"

"In case you've forgotten, it's my job to go on this mission!" Birdie screeched, her voice echoing off the bulkhead. "I am the head of security and tactical!"

"And I'm the commander of this ship! You don't see me sitting in the pilot seat of one of the pods!"

"Oh …only because Captain Tucker ordered you to the bridge!" Birdie fired back sticking a finger right in his face. "Like it or not I'm leaving on one of those pods!"

00-00

"Lieutenant, here are the latest readings on the warp matrix," Chief Alvarez reported. He handed the PADD to Dempsey and leaned against the bulkhead next to the sensor array where Dempsey was working. "This boat is finally started to run within specs."

"Well, you had to do with that Chief," Dempsey replied handing the PADD back to him. "These look fine. The ha…"

"Security to Lieutenant Dempsey."

"Dempsey."

"Sir you're needed in the corridor outside of the launch bay on the double."

"On the double?" Dempsey questioned into the open line. He stole a glance in Alvarez's direction. "For what?"

"Ah … there's an altercation in progress," the disembodied voice replied.

"Okay," Dempsey answered slowly. "Did you send someone to break it up?" he questioned feeling his antennae curl back on his head.

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Dempsey repeated. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"No one is comfortable stepping in sir. It's ah …a domestic squabble between Commander McCann and Colonel Lynch."

Dempsey closed the comm link and swore in untranslated Andorian. _Security isn't comfortable breaking it up? What the hell does that mean? "_Six hours as the as the second in command and suddenly I'm a fricken marriage counselor?" Dempsey cursed under his breath.

"Welcome to my world Lieutenant," Alvarez chuckled as he pushed off the bulkhead. "Marriage counselor, bouncer, mind reader ... I could rattle off a whole list if you'd like."

"Yeah, great!" Dempsey grumbled as he opened the link again. "I'm on my way!" he barked into the line.

00-00

Dempsey bolted out of the turbolift once it hit the deck. He could hear their voices echoing off the bulkheads. Passionate words about commitment, relationships and babies filled the corridor as he neared the launch bay access. _I break up arguments in engineering, in the mess hall, in space dock, why should this be any different? _

"Just change my title from Chief Engineer to Head Bouncer," he mumbled jogged past the security detail that was hiding in the connecting corridor. "Back to your posts," he directed their prying ears firmly.

_Wow, they're really into it, _Dempsey noted as he walked around the corner. _No wonder why security chickened out. _Lynch and McCann looked like they were ready to go to blows. McCann had backed Lynch against the bulkhead and the two senior officers were up in each other faces. Their skin was flushed beet-red with anger and their bodies were ridged with emotion. Dempsey paused for a moment trying to decide how he wanted to play it. _Let's go with the oh, I'm sorry did I interrupt something … excuse, _he decided as he started to walk toward them.

"Commander!" he shouted to get McCann's attention. He watched McCann freeze in mid-sentence and the color drain from his face. "We're ready to depart sir," Dempsey added firmly trying to draw the commander's attention from the colonel.

McCann looked over his right shoulder at the Lieutenant and stepped back from Colonel Lynch. "Good," he stammered as he tried to regain his composure. "I believe the strike teams are ready to go… aren't they Colonel?" Catch blubbered as he took a couple more steps away from his fiancé.

"I believe so," Lynch replied tugging the front of her jacket down. She reached up to brush her hair out of her face and wipe the sweat and tears off her cheek.

"Good. Make sure the pods are ready to deploy on my mark," McCann nodded to her as she stepped over to the launch bay hatch.

"And my status?" Birdie asked hesitantly looking over her shoulder at Shane.

"The Captain ordered you to lead the ground team," Catch remarked ruefully. "Just…ah be careful Colonel."

Dempsey watched the exchange between the two quietly and waited for McCann to join him on the walk to the turbolift. He was pleased to see that security had disappeared from the corridor when they turned the corner. Neither man said a word until the turbolift doors were security shut.

"What the hell was that?" Dempsey asked punching the button for the bridge.

"Ah… stupid," Shane replied running his hand across his face. "Birdie's pregnant with my child."

"I think everyone on the ship is fairly cognizant of that fact now Commander," Dempsey replied curtly. "However, that's not what I meant," he added looking up at the ceiling.

"That was my over-active boyfriend persona getting the best of me," McCann replied sighing heavily.

"Yeah, well, respectfully sir, you need to stow it," Dempsey replied hitting the stop button on the lift. He turned to face McCann. He crossed his arms at his chest and his antenna curled back against his scalp in their _really really _annoyed position. "Captain Tucker assigned Colonel Lynch to the strike team because he needed the best on the ground to rescue our people. That's her job Commander. It was her job yesterday, it's her job today and until she decides differently or the CMO removes her from duty, it will be her job tomorrow. It's no different that your job on the bridge, leading this group to accomplish our mission. You need to leave your personal feelings in your state-room."

"You're out of line Lieutenant," McCann interrupted crisply. "You're bucking a charge of insubordination."

"Am I Commander?" Dempsey retorted teetering toward the man. He stared him straight in the eye daring him to the challenge. "If I'm not mistaken it's the first officer's job to question the Captain's judgment and keep he or she in line," Dempsey reminded McCann practically throwing his own words back in his face. The arrogant nephew of the Admiral didn't intimate Dempsey. As far as Demps was concerned Shane McCann's audition and tenure on Phoenix was as short lived as the mission they were embarking on.

"When he or she is acting like an ass?" McCann muttered after a moment.

"Something like that," Dempsey said rolling back down on his heels.

"Where the hell was that first officer when Hernandez went off her rocker?" Shane asked rhetorically.

"In the brig charged with mutiny," Dempsey remarked flatly.

00-00

Both ships went to full impulse after disengaging their docking clamps. They circled the moon they were hiding behind and slipped into an attack formation with Phoenix taking the lead. It didn't take long to get the Naree or Anoree's attention.

"Captain, the Naree battle cruiser is breaking orbit and heading in our direction," Ensign Messer called out from the tactical station in the aft section of the bridge. "Scanning for vulnerabilities."

"We're receiving a hail from Elnora's ship," Hoshi stated piggy-backing Messer's response.

"On screen," Tucker replied calmly from the Captain's chair. He watched the screen split to reveal Elnora standing in what appeared to be the middle of her ship's bridge. She was dressing in an oversized green and brown garment that clashed horribly with her purple scales. "Greetings …Elnora isn't it?" Tucker remarked as he squinted at the screen.

"Captain, you must be a man that enjoys defeat," Elnora said caustically into the comm link.

"Why do you say that?" Tucker asked leaning forward in his chair.

"We have already beaten those pathetic excuses for ships once," she said plainly sauntering around the bridge smugly. "We relish the opportunity to dominate again."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it seems that you are slightly out numbered this time," Trip replied.

"HA! Do they not teach you to count on your world Captain?" Elnora retorted spinning around on her heel. "My allies number four in strength."

"Oh, those Naree ships are on your side?" Tucker said standing slowly from his seat. He stepped down toward the helm station. "Because your father told us that they weren't…"

"My father knows nothing of my alliances!" Elnora screamed at the viewer interrupting Tucker mid-sentence. "He is an idiot!"

"Well, I wouldn't know about that," Tucker replied flatly. "I make it a point to stay out of family squabbles."

"A wise decision Captain. However, it would have been to your benefit to stay away from the compound as well," she growled into the screen.

"Now, there's where I tend to differ with your opinion. See, your father told us that you're holding our people in the compound. I'm here to see to their release," Tucker remarked resting his foot against the chair rail of the helm station.

"The slaves at the compound are my property," Elnora said flatly.

"Slavery is illegal on my world."

"We're not on your world Captain…" Elnora started to comment.

"I've been sanctioned by your government to retrieve the crew of Columbia," Tucker interrupted her sharply. "I've been authorized to use whatever force necessary to complete that task."

"My crew is not intimidated by your idle threats Captain," Elnora laughed into the screen. "We're amused by your attempts to threaten us."

"Well, good," Trip replied pushing off the helm station. "We'll see who has the last laugh." He motioned toward Hoshi to cut the line and then glanced to the aft section of the bridge. "Ensign, what do you have?" he asked Messer.

"We can take the engines out in one shot," Messer informed him. "Weapons might require some creativity."

"The Naree vessel is still on an intercept course," Hoshi informed Trip.

"Columbia?"

"Pods are away. The ship is breaking for the compound," Hoshi reported as her hands flew over the console.

"The other Naree ship is coming about to intercept Columbia," Messer added.

"Tucker to Rybaiski," Trip called to Stu from the comm link in his chair. "Prepare to deploy on my mark."

"I have target locked sir," Messer informed him. "Both the Anoree and Naree ships are powering weapons!"

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Footsteps and muffled voices from the hall pulled her from her sleep. She was hesitant to move too much as the cool cement floor gave comfort to her swollen face. _And arms, and ribs, _she thought as she remained motionless. Her vow to the captain the night before was haunting her quietly. _Why even bother anymore? _Kelly questioned. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and she did nothing to stop it. It hurt too much to move.

Everything hurt, even her heart. The little truce she had brokered with the guards just days ago that had spared her life had exploded in her face. Those men, that she had naively come to trust, had obviously shared their little secret with the others in the compound and now everyone wanted a piece of the action. Her action.

It started with the guard that rushed Crewman Lake and her from the courtyard. The man was a stranger to her. No one Kelly had seen in any part of the compound or from the boarding parties that had invaded the ship. In fact, the man looked more human than reptilian. _Parts of his anatomy were definitely humanoid, she_ thought. _So much for resisting Ensign, _she scolded herself. _I tried, but my body betrayed me. I said no, but they didn't listen or maybe they didn't even hear. _

_They didn't hear, _she repeated. Kelly shuddered at the thought of the man touching her, his callous indifference to her reaction or Lake's. _Not that Brice could do anything to stop it, they forced him to watch and beat him to unconsciousness when he fought back. _Kelly blinked and moved her hand slowly to wipe the tears away.

The second attack came just hours ago in this very room. Kelly had fallen asleep against the captain's bunk and was jolted awake by the same guard nudging her with a stun stick. Kelly knew better than to make a sound as she stood and limped quietly out of the room. No one else needed to be punished trying to defend her. _There wasn't anything to defend me over anyway, _she berated herself.

Kelly didn't fight back when the guard pushed her down over the sink. She barely moved when he touched her, sliding his scaly fingers under the waistband of her pants and down between her legs. His entrance into her was abrupt and deliberate, her nerve endings screaming in pain as her body was stretched to the limit. But that isn't what sickened Kelly the most. "I liked it," she sobbed quietly.

_I felt alive with him inside me. He made me…_her thoughts trailed off and she coughed blinking back the tears. The interaction between them lasted for over thirty minutes and in the process, the guard ended up pleasuring Kelly more than once. As much as she tried to pretend that she was disgusted by what he was doing, the sensation of his touch, the friction between them was oddly exciting. She reacted to him as if he was her lover; low moans escaped her lips, her hips ground against his groin uncontrollably. She opened herself to him, allowed him to stroke her bud and pinch her nipples seductively. She welcomed his hot breath on the back of her neck. Her body ached to be able to touch him the way he was touching her and he almost let her. Almost.

Ensign Morgan remembered his reflection in the mirror as her body spasmed around him. Kelly shuddered as she thought about his smug attitude and his sinister laugh. _Keep that up and you'll be spared from the slave market, _he promised in her ear. "I'd do it if it meant staying alive," she mumbled.

Ensign Morgan ran her hand down the front of her pants and under the fabric at her waist. She slid her fingers between her legs and felt the sticky warm wetness. Her body twitched from the friction of her hand against the sensitive nerve endings and she closed her eyes to live in the sensation for just a moment.

_I'm sick, _she told herself as she snapped her eyes opened. _Isn't that called the Stockholm syndrome? _Kelly swallowed hard and pulled her hand from her pants only to discover her fingers covered in blood. She choked at the sight of it and she felt her stomach lurch. Before she could stop herself, she regurgitated whatever her stomach contained on the floor in front of her. _Crap! _she mumbled thinking that she needed to clean up the mess before the guards had another reason to violate her.

"Lieutenant, she's in here," a voice spoke somewhere above her head. Before she could move, she felt a hand on her shoulder, rolling her to her back.

"Ensign? Are you okay? Geezus, someone get Ichara," Mahoney's voiced filtered through her ears. "Kelly?"

"I'm fine Lieutenant," she gurgled. She tried to push herself into a sitting position but her arms wouldn't work. "Ouch," she cried out as she struggled to get it together in front of Kyle.

"It's okay," he said trying to comfort her. He reached to touch her shoulder just as she visibly flinched and pulled away. "Hey, Kelly. It's me, okay? I'm not going to hurt you." He held his hands up, palms facing her face in surrender.

Kelly bit her lip as she started to cry. "Sorry Lieutenant," she muttered tersely.

"Can you guys give us a minute?" Mahoney asked those standing in the doorway. "Go use the showers in the rec room." He watched as the door quietly shut and turned his attention back to his crewmate. "What happened?"

"The guard," Kelly said plainly. She ran her hand through her brown hair and caught her fingers on a matted clump of blood. She pulled her hand free and stared at the dried blood on her fingertips. "A different guard. Yelled at Brice and me when we were in the courtyard. He searched Brice and found rocks in his pocket and then marched us into the secured area… where he ah…," Kelly turned her head from his eyes. "I think Lake is dead," she practically whispered. "He was trying to protect me."

Mahoney nodded quietly. "Did the guard…touch you?" he asked, already knowing the answer. The blood had soaked through her thin pants and was oozing down her leg.

"I tried to fight," Kelly cried. "But my body … my body won't let me." She dropped her chin to her chest as sobs riddled her body. The hopelessness of their situation was finally hitting home.

"Hey shh," he whispered trying to comfort her. He ran his hand up her arm and caught her chin in the palm of his hand. "It's normal," he said pulling her chin up so he could look her in the eye. "It's the way your body protects itself, remember? We learned that at school."

"I flunked last night," she mumbled feeling Mahoney slide his body behind hers.

"No you didn't," he replied. "Some times victory is taking the path of least resistance."

Kelly felt him run his hand over her shoulders in a comforting rub. Tears blurred her vision as she thought about the man in the room with her now. _How would Trey handle this? _she wondered comparing the two.

They were both medical professionals. Burrows was nearly a doctor and like Kelly, Mahoney was a registered nurse. Personality wise, the two men were as different as night and day. Where Trey was tough and commanding, Kyle was understanding and warm. Trey was tall and athletic, while Kyle was average in both height and weight. _And normal, _Kelly commented silently. Trey's life was complicated and cluttered. As long as Kelly had known Mahoney she had only observed him as simple and _boring. _

Normal and boring seemed to be the ticket to survival behind these prison walls. Everyone who was vocal or fought back was dead. _Except for me, _Kelly thought. _And as long as I perform for them, I'll be alive. _"I feel dirty," she finally muttered, reaching up to wipe the tears and the filth from her face.

00-00

"Commander, grab your ankles!" the female Vulcan shuttle pilot commented deadpan from the front of the pod.

"Excuse me?" Stu choked just as the pod barrel rolled under the Naree runner and scraped across its belly. "Holy shit!" Stu yelped as he crashed to the floor…er ceiling of the pod and rolled into the rear bench. "Melo!"

"I informed you to attain a suitable anchor before my maneuver," she replied. Her voice was crusted with a layer of silt, a stark contrast against the whirlwind of dance steps her hands were going through.

Stu rolled his eyes and looked up at Navalle, who was hanging on for her life in the rear of the pod. "Contrary to popular belief, grab your ankles and hang on are two entirely different concepts. They aren't interchangeable," he grumbled pulling himself off the deck. "Are you okay?" he asked Navalle, He didn't get a chance to see her response as another as a wave of phase fire hit the aircraft. "Crap! Can't you lose them?"

"Negative Commander," Melo remarked. "They are tailgating."

_Figures that she's get that slang correct, _Rybaiski thought stealing a glance at the Vulcan pilot. Unlike T'Pol, there was nothing about the woman that was attractive. Her bowl hair cut and chiseled features made her appear almost masculine. _I should ask McCann if his gay-dar goes off around her, _he contemplated as the shuttle continued to be jostled by fire. "Dammit!" he yelled slamming his hand down on the comm button. "Rybaiski to Columbia!"

"Go ahead pod one," Commander McCann's official response crackled across the shuttles comm array.

"Could you get that mig off our six?" Rybaiski yelled into the open link.

"Roger that Commander."

The static on the line went dead and a second later space surrounding the pod exploded in an orangish-yellow ball of fire. Rybaiski stared in disbelief at the sensor readings. "Crap!" he muttered under his breath. "That's going to require some paperwork." He leaned over to rekey the comm link. "Thanks a lot Columbia, nice use of restraint," he joked sarcastically.

"We just tapped their engines," McCann answered caustically. "They overloaded on their own."

Rybaiski cut the comm line and turned his attention back to the sensor readings. "I'll bet," he muttered under this breath. "That's security speak for oops."

"Commander," Navalle called drawing his attention to her workstation. "I think I've located the power source for the shielding. It's here," she said pointing to a schematic on her monitor.

Stu stepped over to her station and practically leaned on Navalle's shoulder to get a closer look. The power source was in the dead center of the compound on the lowest level of the building. "Yeah, looks like we can gain access here, make our way down this service vent and drop into the room here," he replied trailing his finger down the diagram.

"That's a little ambitious don't you think?" Navalle questioned.

He looked down at her just as her antenna moved and brushed against his arm. Stu watched her shuddered at the contact, noticing a smile cross her features. "What's the problem Nav?" he asked her with a husky voice. "I thought you were up to a challenge."

"I am, just not one that requires us crawling a hundred feet through a two by two ventilation shaft," she shrugged.

"I could think of worse things," Stu replied jokingly. He sat back in his seat and keyed the comm link again. "Pod one to Phoenix."

"Go ahead pod one," Tucker answered calmly. One would never guess by the tone of his voice that he was taking fire from two different ships.

"We're heading to the surface," Stu remarked. "We have the location."

"Good," Tucker remarked. "Take pod four with you for ground support."

"Roger that. Birdie did you copy?" Rybaiski asked.

"Yes sir. We're on your six."

00-00

An ominous crackling and popping sound drew Commander McCann's attention from the comm chatter between Phoenix and pod one. As much as he wanted to weigh in his opinion on which pod was going to provide ground support, he didn't have time. The sizzling behind the panel told him the thing was about to blow. Before he could open his mouth to warn the technician at tactical, the panel exploded.

Time seemed to stand still as shards of metal and wiring took flight and embedded themselves in the back of the technician's head. McCann watched the expression on the woman's face morph from surprise to anguish when she realized her life was extinguished. The body slumped against the tactical station just as the console caught on fire and the stench of burning flesh flooded the bridge.

"Commander I'm rerouting tactical!" Ensign Sandy Miner yelled as her hands flew across the communication console.

Shane didn't think twice about what Miner had said as he dove to the bulkhead to activate the secondary fire suppression system and grab a fire extinguisher.

"Locked on to their weapons port!" Miner announced as Shane and another technician blasted the tactical wall with a burst of halotron liquid to put out the flames.

"Fire at will," Catch yelled back looking down at the limp body of the female technician. He backed out of the way as a technician and medic carefully moved the body out of the chair and laid it flat on the floor.

"Commander!" Lieutenant Ganzer screeched from the helm. "The Naree ship is moving to intercept the pods!"

"Miner!" Shane shouted as a verbal command to get her to do something about the enemy ships. He looked up at the view screen just as an explosion rocked the Naree ship. "Status of their weapons?" McCann asked jumping over the damaged tactical station.

"Disabled sir," Miner replied smugly.

"Target their engines! I've had about enough of this crap," McCann ordered from in front of the Captain's chair.

"Gladly sir," was Ensign Miner's only reply.

00-00

"Idiot!" Elnora ranted as she race around the bridge of her crippled ship. "Fire all weapons!"

"Belay that order!" the captain said. He slowly rose out of his seat and turned to face Elnora. The Anoree captain was close in age to Elnora's father. His weathered face displayed character and was thick, thick enough to dare challenge her outrageous demands. "It is pointless to continue firing on their ship Mistress. They are barely within our weapons range, without engines and the ability to take a defensive position; we might as well have a _'shoot me here'_ sign on our hull."

"Are you asking me to give up?" Elnora glared at him from the bank of computer consoles on the riser above him. "That ship has committed an act of war on the Royal Family!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "You want to give up?" she asked loudly of the crew on the bridge.

"Did you not hear the Starfleet Captain say our government authorized them to take whatever action was necessary to rescue their people?" The older reptilian questioned her.

"Do you honestly think my father and the royal court actually made that ridiculous statement?" Elnora snarled running to the end of the riser to confront the captain head on. The jacket of her gown dragged across the floor behind her as she ran. "My father would not tup…yeow!"

The entire bridge crew turned toward the yelp only to see their mistress sprawled face first on the deck. The tail of her jacket had snagged a jagged piece of metal and which impeded her forward movement. The Mistress stumbled down the stairs and landed on the floor. The captain turned his head to disguise his laughter only to hear muffled chuckles coming from most of the bridge crew. He glanced back toward the Mistress and after a second reluctantly walked to her side.

"Mistress, are you alright?" he asked soberly. He watched her flail around on the floor as she struggled to get up.

"Of course I'm not alright you idiot!" she screamed jerking her arms and torso away from him as he tried to help her. "I want you to destroy the Starfleet vessel now!" Elnora finally managed to crawl to a standing position and attempted to storm in the direction of the captain but was immediately pulled back by her jacket. She turned and deliberately ripped the garment from under the console and then whipped around to face her pilot. "_**Destroy that ship now!**_"

"No," the captain replied defiantly.

"No?" she questioned him walking toward him slowly.

"I refuse to comply with that order Mistress," the captain stated standing his ground.

"Refuse to comply? I could have you killed for your insubordination!" Elnora screamed in his face. Her scales returned to their bright purple hue and stood straight up on her head.

"Yes. Yes you could," the captain agreed with her. He stared her dead in the eye and nodded his head slowly. "But you won't. I'm the only person that can fly this ship. You have no choice but to listen to me." He turned on his heel and started to walk slowly back to his chair.

Elnora stood motionless as her body began to tremble with anger. Without warning, she launched herself across the bridge and jumped on the back of the captain. Caught off guard by her sudden weight, the two dropped to the floor and began to wrestle each other to the death. The crew watched in horror as their mistress attacked the captain relentlessly with her fist, head, fingernails and teeth. The captain managed to get a few good licks of his own in as well. No one dared to make a move to the captain's aide or to separate the crazed woman from her prey. In minutes, the fight was over and only one combatant remained.

00-00

"Hold this position," Rybaiski whispered tersely to Jeeter, Jankee and Kopat. He motioned for Navalle, Birdie, and Melo, to enter the ventilation shaft that was five feet down the hall. "No one in or out understand?" he confirmed with Private Jeeter.

"Yes, sir," the young man said. "What if we see anyone from Columbia?"

"Mark their position for transport," Birdie replied.

"If they approach, pat them down and secure them with these," Rybaiski added tossing Jeeter a handful of flexi cuffs.

The man stared at them with a perplexed expression on his face. "Flexi cuffs sir?" he questioned looking up at Lynch and Rybaiski.

"That's right private," Colonel Lynch confirmed. "Until they clear decon and medical they should be considered a hostile."

"Yes, ma'm," the private replied shoving the cuffs in his utility pocket.

Rybaiski stepped to the opening for the ventilation shaft. He took the PADD with the schematic of the compound on it from his pocket and handed it to Melo who crawled into the shaft first. Navalle, Rybaiski and Birdie followed suit, entering the shaft on their backs and rolling over on their stomachs once they had pulled clear of the opening. The concrete tunnel was a tight squeeze and Rybaiski's lanky form barely fit. The four shimmied through the horizontal vent for fifty feet and then dropped eight feet to the next level. The next length of venting took the group over a cluster of rooms into the center of the compound. Rybaiski was cursing under his breath as he pulled himself along. The vent was slightly wider here which was convenient, but still very claustrophobic. He felt Navalle's foot hit his shoulder and realized the two MACO's on point had stopped short.

"Corporal Melo what's the issue?" he whispered into his communicator. Stu performed a slow log roll onto his side and looked up the shaft to Navalle who was pointing to venting port on the side of the shaft.

"There are members of Columbia in the room directly below us," the Vulcan MACO answered. "Two males and a female," she reported. "There are two other humanoids with them."

"What're they doing?" Rybaiski asked quietly.

"They are eating a meal," Melo replied.

"Eating huh?" Rybaiski mumbled as he felt his own stomach growl. "Does it look edible? I'm kinda hungry," he joked.

"Considering of your carnivore appetite, you would starve," she remarked flatly.

"I eat vegetables … sometimes," Stu replied defensively. "Can we get past them?" he asked looking at his watch.

"I believe so," Melo answered and continued to slide down the shaft.

Rybaiski pulled his PADD out of his pocket and ran a scan of the sub-dermal transponders and electronic dog tags that were within range of their position. He was able to tally seventeen of Columbia's crew in the general area of the room cluster. Seven weaker signals were coming from the area of the power distribution module. As Rybaiski and his team made their way through the next section of venting, the four got an eyeful of the activities from the rooms below.

"Yeow!" Stu gasped. "Did you see that?" he asked Birdie through the comm device. "What kind of prison life is that? Crewman Tate is getting gang-banged by those two chicks!"

"I tried not to look," Colonel Lynch replied dryly.

"Figures that I would get stuck at the peep show with someone that didn't want to watch," Rybaiski grumbled under his breath.

"You could have brought Jeeter and Kopat down," Birdie reminded him.

"Yeah, right… Kopat would've got stuck in the vent and Jeeter has enough ordinance on him to blow up a small city," Rybaiski said. "Not very stealthy."

"Commander!" Navalle yelped through her communicator. "Hernandez is right below me."

Rybaiski scooted up in the vent and squeezed his body against Navalle's body to get a look through the vent. "She doesn't look so hot," he mumbled turning his head to look at Navalle. He watched the Andorian female nod in agreement and fought the urge to umm… run his tongue over her lips "You got a medical tricorder on you?" he whispered to her with a husky tone.

"Yes," Navalle replied as she squirmed against him to retrieve it from the utility pocket of her BDU's. "You aren't going to be able to get a reading on her from here. She's too far away," she said when she was finally able to pull it from her pocket.

"Not if I boost the signal with the PADD," Rybaiski replied as he tried to roll onto his back but found himself blocked by Navalle. "You're going to have to crawl ahead and get on the other side of the port," he motioned to her with his head.

Stu went to work on boosting the scan strength of the tricorder and was mildly aware of Navalle's body scraping against his as she pushed past him. Her actions were calculated and came off as intentional, a push off his shoulder, her leg lingering between his. _Very suspicious, _he noted as he tried to concentrate on his work. The next time he looked up from the tricorder, she was facing him on the other side of the port. "How'd you get turned around like that?"

"I'm limber," the Andorian answered, slying shrugging her shoulders.

_Oh, if you only knew where my mind was going, _Rybaiski thought as he rolled over and slid closer to the opening. He braced himself against the backside of the shaft and aimed the tricorder at the captain. Stu squinted at the screen as he read the results.

"Yeah, she's definitely not doing so hot," he surmised not feeling the need to vocalize the captain's injuries to the rest of the team. He stared at the screen and bit his lip. _Internal bleeding, high fever, broken ribs, cracked pelvis … yeah, we need to get her back to the ship. _He flipped his communicator open and called to the Vulcan female leading the pack. "Melo, how's it looking up there?"

"The power room is clear," Melo replied.

"Let's get this show on the road," Rybaiski remarked suddenly motivated to get the crew out of the prison.

--

"Gawd dammit!" Rybaiski swore ten minutes later. It was his third unsuccessful attempt to try to disable to shielding around the building. His first order of business was to disable the force field around the control box. "Whose brainy idea was it too booby-trap the power source?" he cursed as he shook his hand trying to get the feeling in his fingertips to return.

"I suspect it is an effective deterrent for the prisoners," Melo remarked from just inside the door. "Certainly the Columbia crew made an attempt to escape at some point during their detention."

"Naah, none of the electronic dog tags are engineering rated," he muttered as he stared at the scanner readings.

"Are you inferring that only engineers are smart enough to break out jail?" Birdie snapped at him.

Rybaiski glanced at the three security officers guarding the door. He knew better than to insult them since all three could surely kick his ass. "Umm, no I'm not saying that," he backtracked quickly. Stu ran his hand through his tuff of hair and unhooked the placket of his uniform top. He pulled the zipper all the way down and let the jacket fall open. "Is it hot in here or is that just me? "Do you have any C4?" he asked looking at Birdie.

"If we use it, the guards will know we're here," she informed him as she pulled it out of her pocket. She held the brick up in her hand, dangling it just out of his reach.

"Well, yeah … do you have a better idea?" he snapped back at her. His frustration was getting the best of him and to make matters worse, every hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. _Not a good sign, _he told himself as he took a deep breath. "Look I just need a little to take that field out," he said pointing at the power box on the starboard wall. "So I can get at the bigger problem," he added pointing to the larger system behind him.

Birdie handed him the brick and he went to work on setting the charge. He lined the putty up on the side of the power source on the chance the blast would take out both problems at once. When the explosive was set, Stu and the three MACO's exited the room and took defensive positions just outside the door.

"Grab your ankles!" Stu warned just as he flicked the detonator.

00-00

Ensign Kelly Morgan walked down the corridor and held her arms tight across her chest. Her body was physically clean as Lieutenant Mahoney and Ichara helped her shower, change her clothes and get some food into her system. Still, Kelly still couldn't shake the feelings that rattled through her. She felt defeated and helpless. The images and the people in their wing of the compound swirled around her like a merry-go-round. The faces were friendly and concerned but the burn in her chest haunted her. The sensation of the guard's hands on her or the look on Lake's face as the guard beat him. Then there were the screams and whether they were hers or Lake's it didn't matter, the blood curdling sounds echoed in her head.

_Maybe things will be better when I get out of this place, _she told herself as she shuffled through the door of the dining room. _Like that is ever going to happen, _she thought as she scanned the nearly empty room. Two of the Columbia crew sat at a table over by the wall and waved her over when they looked up. _Just don't ask me how I feel, _Kelly thought as she walked to the drink dispenser to get a glass of water.

Kelly lost her footing and nearly tripped over her feet as she neared the drink dispenser. She reached out to steady herself and felt her whole body trembling. _I need some water, _she told herself as she steadied her hands enough to push the glass against the dispenser. The movement seemed foreign to her. Her hands fumbled through the motion as if she was drunk. _Maybe I am drunk,_ she thought as she turned toward the table.

She noticed her cellmates standing in the middle of the room with a befuddled expression on their faces. Confusion began to sink in with Kelly as she watched the two men began to melt into a yellowish haze. _Am I dreaming? _she wondered. _That looks like a transporter beam. But there's no ship in orbit to transport us anywhere, _she reminded herself. _I'm not going to say anything because Brandt and Meyer will think I'm nuts. _Kelly exhaled slowly and walked toward the table the men had been sitting at when she walked into the room. She nearly fell to the floor twice before make it there and was sure her crewmates were laughing at her. _Okay, this confirms it, I am nuts,_ she said as she stopped at the empty table.

"Where did you guys go?" she asked aloud turning slowly around and scanning the room. The static that enveloped the room began to tune in to recognizable sounds. _Alarms! _Kelly thought quickly as another round of explosions rocked the ground. The glass fell from her hand and shattered on the floor. "Those were explosions!" she cried out as she ran through the glass out of the dining hall.

Kelly darted into the hallway in search of anyone to confirm she wasn't dreaming. She caught sight of Mahoney and Richert running out of the rec room and headed in their direction. "Kyle!" she screamed over the blasts as she ran.

"Kelly look out!" Mahoney yelled to warn her of the falling debris. The two men skidded to a stop just as part of the ceiling crashed to the floor around them.

Kelly ducked to avoid the concrete and piping as it clattered to the floor and looked back down the hallway for her friends. She watched in horror as a yellowish light washed over Richert and Mahoney and they quietly disappeared.

"Wait! Take me!" Kelly screamed frantically as she ran to the spot Mahoney had been standing. Just missing the beam, she sank to the floor sobbing uncontrollably. She stared at her lacerated foot with indifference. _I'm bleeding, _she thought as she pushed herself off the dirt covered floor. _Maybe I'm dreaming. _Kelly wiped the tears out of her eyes and tasted the dirt on her tongue. "The captain!" she screamed as she dodged chucks of concrete that was falling around her. Kelly turned on her heel and retreated toward the dormitory area screaming for Ichara and Hernandez as she ran.

00-00

"Status of their weapons?" Tucker screeched as the whine of a conduit overloading caught his attention. He jumped out of the way just as the ceiling blew above him.

Phoenix and Columbia had been taking light fire from the Naree before Rybaiski's team hit the surface. The dynamics changed the minute the shielding had gone down, the alien vessels had turned up the heat, both blasting the Starfleet ships in a lopsided battle. Between dodging torpedoes and phaser blasts, both ships were transporting survivors from the surface, the detainees, the Anoree's and anyone else that was within transporter range.

Elnora obviously had taken offense to both actions and was shooting at anything within range of her disabled ship. For a primitive vessel, her weapons were not to take for granted. Tucker had ordered the ship to move away from the Anoree ship but remain within range of the compound for transports. Unfortunately, that put Phoenix at the outer limits of Elnora's weapons range and well within the Naree blast zone. Phoenix was holding her own for the most part, although the bridge capsule was taking a beating … again.

"The Naree still firing at the surface," Hoshi reported from her station.

"Who is firing at us?" Gervase asked helping Tucker back up on his feet.

"The Anoree," Messer replied from tactical.

"And the Naree," Sato answered as she started to cough. Smoke began to pour out of panel behind the comm station causing the commander to dive out of her seat. Hoshi rolled across the deck and looked around at the crumbling bridge. An eerie yellow haze was filling the room from nearly every wall panel. Part of the ceiling had collapsed just above the command chair and the tactical alert tones were blaring in her ear. The surreal view of the bridge crew frantically tried to maintain control began to blur in front of her while she felt the heat of an overloading panel at her back.

"Hoshi!" Gervase yelled. He dived over the railing and pulled her body free from the jumbled of debris around her console.

"Ensign Messer, fire all weapons!" Tucker blurted out. He tripped over the broken conduits and stumbled into the helm station. A couple more blast of phaser fire rocked the bridge and then everything became deathly silent. Trip scanned the stations to make sure his team was okay.

"Get Hoshi to sickbay," he ordered in Gervase's direction as he watched the Denobulian help the Asian communications officer up off the floor. "Mr. Roberts, status of the transports?" Trip asked Roberts at the science station.

"We've transported seventeen of Columbia's crew, ten humanoids, five Anoree females and three Naree guards," Lieutenant Roberts reported. "Columbia has twelve crew, four humanoids, six Anoree females and three Naree guards in custody. Pod three has docked with Columbia for security support."

'And what about two and five?" Gervase asked as he handed Sato off to the medic in the turbolift.

"Two is still drawing fire from the Anoree vessel," Roberts reported as his hands flew over the console.

"Five has taken heavy damage and is docking in the launch bay," Messer added.

"Recall pod two to Columbia," Tucker ordered limping over to the computer wall. He tapped the sensor panel to bring up a status report from the ship.

"Captain, we're receiving a hail from the Anoree ship." Lieutenant Roberts reported from the science station.

Trip twisted his lips and rolled his eyes before turning around. _What the hell does she want?_ he thought as he tried to figure out how he was going to answer her. "Status from Rybaiski?" he asked Roberts turning around and limping back toward what was left of the command chair.

"Pod one and four are still on the surface trying to locate the remaining active transponder signals."

"How many are left?" Trip asked. He looked at the main viewer and watched as the second Naree ship limped out of orbit licking its wounds.

"Rybaiski thinks they have four viable signals," Gervase answered as the comm array pinged again. "The Anoree vessel is still demanding a response sir."

Trip punched some buttons at the helm station and brought Columbia and the Anoree ship up on screen. The Naree weren't the only ones licking their wounds. Despite playing a smarter and more calculated game, both Starfleet ships sustained damage. McCann reported three fatalities during the foray. Miraculously Phoenix had sustained none.

"On screen," Trip finally conceded not really in the mood to hear anything that woman had to say. When the viewer came into focus, the sight caught Tucker by surprise.

Elnora stood in the middle of her bridge wearing the same green and brown gown as earlier, only now the garment was splattered in blood. In fact, Elnora's face, mouth and neck were covered with the crimson liquid. The crew on the bridge behind the Mistress had a dumbfounded – shocked expression on their faces.

Tucker recovered quickly from his initial reaction and stepped around the helm station to address her. He winced as pain shot up his left leg and he favored his right slightly to ease the pressure on his ankle. "Elnora? Can I help you?" he asked in a low calm voice.

"You have committed an act of war on the Anoree people," Elnora said slowly enunciating every word.

"I did no such thing, Elnora. Your government aut…."

"Lies!" Elnora interrupted. Droplets of salvia and blood flew out of her mouth and speckled the video feed. "My government would not authorize an attack on a ship of the Royal Family or a property of the Royal Family!" Elnora screamed into the viewer.

"I'm not lying," Trip remarked resting his hands on his hip. "Let's get your dad on the line and let him confirm it."

"So you can influence him with threats of embargos! I think not Captain," the female remarked as she stalked around on the bridge.

Trip remained silent as he observed the four members of the Anoree bridge crew. Stunned expressions were plastered on their faces. Their eyes glued to a heap of something lying on the floor behind Elnora, conveniently out of his line of sight. He watched as she moved about the bridge and noticed some of the crew kept their eyes trailed on her. He motioned for Roberts to cut the feed and watched the screen flicker to black.

"Play the video back a couple of frames," he asked the lieutenant. "Stop right there. Does she have something in her hand?"

"Where did all that blood come from?" Lieutenant Roberts questioned.

"What's that heap on the floor behind her?" Messer piped in from the computer wall.

"Enlarge the bottom of the screen by her left hand," Tucker said holding his hand up. "Hole …lee… shit!" Tucker cursed as the frame came into focus. "Is that?" his voice trailed off at he looked at the image.

"A head," Crewman Stone mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. "No wonder why the crew has that dull shocked look in their eyes."

"What's the status on their engines?" Trip asked Crewman Stone on the other side of the bridge.

"Their engines are down," Stone reported pulling his eyes away from the screen and refocusing on his console. "Weapon ports on the port side of the ship are still hot."

Tucker nodded and paced around the front of the bridge. The second Naree ship had pulled out of orbit, but was still a stone's throw from the planet. "I think it's time we clear out," Trip remarked keying the comm line from the helm console. "Tucker to Rybaiski."

"Rybaiski here," Stu's voice responded with the sound of phase fire in the background.

"Pack it up, it's time to leave," Tucker replied flatly.

"We still have four transponders to locate," Rybaiski informed him.

"Things are getting a little hostile up here. We'll come back when we have more reinforcements," he said over the link.

"Just give me five minutes…" Stu started to argue.

"That's an order commander," Trip interrupted crisply.

"Aye aye Captain," was Rybaiski's respond as the line crackled closed.

"Captain, the Anoree ship has locked on to us again," Roberts reported just as a volley of explosions rocked the ship.

"Phase hits on our starboard hull plating!" Messer yelled out. "Inertial dampers and grav plating controls were hit! Life support in the bridge capsule is down!"

"Return fire!" Tucker replied. "Sully get us out of here!" he ordered the helm. The entire bridge crew stumbled backward as the ship lurched forward and jumped out of the Anoree's weapon range.

"Captain! The Anoree are targeting on the compound!" Ensign Messer called out from tactical. "I'm reading a large explosion near the pod!"

Tucker felt the color drain from his face and he stumbled around the helm station to punch some buttons on the comm panel. "Phoenix to Pod one, come in!" he yelled into the open comm line. "Tucker to Rybaiski come in!"

"Communications might have been knocked out with the blast," Roberts offered in a hopeful tone from the computer wall.

"Life signs?" Tucker shouted to anyone who would answer.

"Nothing sir," Sully replied somberly. He looked over at his captain and noticed the fatigue on his face. "I'm not reading anything from the surface sir."

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Captain Charles Tucker made his way down the corridor on deck three heading toward sickbay. His eyes were on the PADD in front of him as he reviewed the status reports the departments had emailed him. It had been an hour since they had retreated from binary planet cluster. The damage to Phoenix had been minimal, but with both the Chief Engineer and the Acting Chief Engineer off ship, all hands were required to pitch in with repairs, including the Captain.

Trip ran his hand over his brow and wiped the layer of dirt from his forehead. He rolled his shoulders back and tried to stretch his neck. He had felt like he had been up for days. _What am I saying …I have been up for days, _he reminded himself. _I need a shower and a shave. _

"Captain," Commander Gervase called out from behind Tucker.

Trip slowed his gait and turned toward the voice. He watched as the medium height pony-tailed Denobulian walked in his direction. He smiled inwardly as he remembered Admiral Stewart's discussion with the TPTB regarding Gervase's hair. _Tony Stewart put together a diverse crew that's for sure, _he reflected.

"I had Lieutenant Mahoney check over the roster," Gervase reported, as he got closer to Trip.

"And?"

"We brought up everyone from his section of the compound, except one," Gervase replied handing Tucker a PADD of crew information.

"Who'd we miss?" he asked tucking the status report under his arm and taking the PADD from Gervase.

"A female ...ensign…ah, Kelly Morgan," Gervase said.

"I thought Columbia picked her up," Tucker muttered as he looked at the list.

"Well, both Ensign Pierce and Crewman Hitchcock had a transporter lock on her at one point, but she darted off the radar."

"Maybe it was an Anoree trick to fool us," Trip remarked as he started to walk down the corridor again.

"That's what I thought, but four of the crew swear they saw her in their vicinity as they were being transported. On a good note, we rescued some people that Mahoney had given up for dead," Gervase said.

"Burrows and Lake on that list?" Trip asked the XO as they walked.

"Yeah. Lake was only missing a couple of hours, Burrows was last seen a few days ago. Mahoney thought that at least ten days had passed since anyone had seen Lieutenant Cavanaugh or Crewman Beyer. Major Davenport was part of Hernandez's entourage and left the ship with her before Columbia was boarded."

"Davenport was head of security, so it makes sense why he would leave with the Captain. What about the females?" Trip questioned tapping the PADD on the side of his hand.

"According to Mahoney, the only females they thought were alive were Captain Hernandez and Ensign Morgan," Gervase replied shrugging his shoulders. "The men and women were separated when the ship was boarded and they were taken to the planet on different transports."

"Interesting," Trip remarked nodding his head. The medical reports revealed everything Gervase wasn't saying about the five female crewmembers. Based on the initial scans, the women had been held in a medical lab and were subjected to repeated assaults and medical tests by so-called doctors. "Where is Davenport now?"

"In the brig," Gervase replied flatly.

"He still sticking to the _devil made me do it_ story?" Trip asked arching his brow.

"Yeah, quite convincingly I might add," Geri reported. "If I hadn't read T'Pol's brief or looked over Ensign Chu's personal logs, I would almost believe him."

"Almost?" Trip replied handing the PADD back to the Denobulian executive officer.

"Well, there are some things about his story that don't exactly add up," Gervase backpedaled.

"There are things about all their stories that don't add up," Trip said nodding his head. "Some of it seems a little farfetched." Trip signed and ran his hand across his brow.

"Yeah, but I think there are more holes in Davenport's story than the rest of the crew," Geri countered. "Like he's making it up on the fly."

"It'll take us six, seven weeks to get back to the starbase … plenty of time for him to think up some more lies to tell us," Trip said with a disgusted tone. "I'm heading down to sick bay to check on the Captain and Hoshi and get an update from McCann on everyone," Trip said trying to shake the evil thoughts he was having about Columbia's head of security from his mind.

"I just came from there," Gervase informed him. "Hoshi has been released to quarters with minor injuries. The med techs have stabilized the female crew from Columbia. Burrows and Lake are sleeping and McCann is in surgery with Hernandez."

Trip nodded and stopped walking. "Anything else I should know?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Ensign Chu, Lieutenant Mahoney, and the rest of the detainees have been released to quarters on a quarantine protocol," Gervase remarked. "Chief Roman put the Columbia crew on deck seven. The humanoids and the Anoree females are on deck eleven and the Naree guards are in the brig."

"Quarantine protocol?" Trip questioned tilting his head slightly. "Something wrong with them?"

"I don't know Captain, I'm not the doctor," Gervase remarked shrugging his shoulders. "Criminal justice major here," he added with a grin.

"You taking up the comedian bit now that Solon is off the ship?" Trip rolled his eyes at the pun.

"Someone needs to fill in," Gervase shrugged.

"Don't quit your day job," Trip chuckled. "Okay, let's see, engineering kicked me out of their department twenty minutes ago, the bridge crew has relocated to the command center and there's nothing for me to check on in sick bay. Hell, is there anything else for me to do?"

"Honestly, sir? No," Gervase laughed. "I guess if you wanted something to do, you should have picked a less capable crew." Gervase inclined his head toward the left. "Why don't you hit the rack awhile? There's nothing going on that requires the captain presence right now and if anything comes up I'll call you," he added.

"Naah, you probably need some rest before me," Trip tried to argue. With Rybaiski and the away team missing, the last place he wanted to be was taking a nap.

"Hey Denobulian here … I'm not in my sleep cycle for another three months," Gervase replied crossing his arms at his chest. "Don't worry captain, I will call you the minute Darlington arrives in the sector and the instant they rescue the away team and the second they find anything else."

"Okay, okay, uncle," Tucker replied holding his hands up in a surrender.

"I got this sir," Gervase said flatly crossing his arms at his chest.

For a moment, Trip had a flashback to a similar conversation he had with Phlox so many years ago. Just like Phlox the day he ordered him to take a nap, the XO wasn't giving an inch. It was an effective attribute for a security officer and a transferrable job skill for a leader on the ship. _Or a used car salesman. The denobulian's really missed their calling,_he thought smugly. He shoved the PADD into his pants pocket and turned to head to the turbolift.

"Thank you Commander," Trip muttered awkwardly.

00-00

Commander Shane McCann slowed to wave his hand over the door sensor and stepped into sickbay once they slid open. He scanned the room quickly and found his brother-in-law standing at a lab station in the aft portion of the room.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked as he walked up to Solon.

"Yes Commander," Solon replied formally without looking up. "I require your assistance."

"With what?" Shane asked crossing his arms at his chest impatiently. As acting Captain of Columbia, he had a million things to do and none of them related to helping the acting CMO. Some were official acts of paper shuffling; the rest concerned the ball of anxiety that was growing in the pit of his stomach regarding Colonel Lynch's whereabouts. No matter how he sliced, diced or tried to reason with himself, his mind was conjuring up at least a hundred scenarios of what happened to her and their child. _So maybe helping Solon isn't such a bad thing, _he contemplated as his brother-in-law explained himself in the background.

"A conversation with the detainees is in order," Solon said barely looking over at McCann. "I need specific information on the details of their confinement."

"Tell Haas and Schlueter," McCann replied waving his hand around impatiently. "They're debriefing the crew..."

"The information I require falls into the sensitive category," Solon interrupted him. "It will require a more definitive command finesse."

McCann tilted his head questioningly just as Solon shot him a brow-glare that said _you're going to do this whether you like it or not. _Catch rolled his eyes, ran his hand over the day's growth of stumble, and mentally reminded himself that he needed a shave. "A command finesse?" Catch repeated slowly. He exhaled loudly with resignation. "Alright, what it is?"

"I've detected anomalous markers in their blood work," Solon said dryly. He tapped a few keys on the computer and opened some data on the monitor.

"Which means what?"

"They are infected with a virus."

"A virus? Is it contagious?" Shane asked with a furrowed brow. He leaned against the counter to get a good look at the image on the computer monitor. Other than a free-floating blood cell on the screen, the rest of the display was gibberish to him.

"There is minimal chance of contamination providing the detainees refrain from sexual activity."

"Whoa… wha?" Catch sputtered as he choked on his words. "Are you saying the detainees have a sexually transmitted disease?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Which group are you talking about?" McCann asked with an incredulous expression on his face. "Columbia or the…"

"The Columbia crew."

"Did they have it before they were abducted?" Shane blabbed as he tried to process the information overload. He ran his hand through his short brown hair. _This sounds like a doctor thing, nothing the ship's captain would handle! _he muttered to himself as his eyes wandered around the room.

"There isn't any notation in their records," Solon remarked flatly.

Catch nodded and sighed again. He looked over at the CMO and could tell by the expression on his face that passing this off to security wasn't an option. "Okay, who is it?" he asked reluctantly.

"All of them."

"Excuse me? They _all _have an STD?" Catch blurted out a little louder than expected. "How the hell did they get that?"

"That is what I need for you to determine Commander," Solon answered. He handed McCann a PADD with the affected detainee's names listed. "Some of the details seem …implausible."

"What about the others…the humanoids we rescued?" McCann asked as he stared blindly at the PADD. "Are they infected?"

"The med techs are collecting blood samples as we speak," Solon replied leaning against the counter top.

Shane looked up at the man and said nothing for a moment. Solon looked like every other ER doctor that McCann had ever met, including his brother. The scrubs, the gym shoes, his relaxed slouch against the cabinet were all completely normal human attributes. _Except that Solon isn't human, at least not on the outside, _Shane reminded himself. _He isn't like any other Vulcan I've met either. As much as Solon's logic is wearing off on Zack, Zack's casual attitude is obviously wearing off on Solon. _

"Exactly why do I need to do this?" Catch questioned him. "This isn't really a captain's job."

"It is unfortunate that Commander Rybaiski isn't on board," Solon answered avoiding McCann's question completely. "He would relish the opportunity of my request."

"Rybaiski?" Shane guffawed. "Yeah, he would belly right up to the bar and trade war stories with them."

"Isn't that your area expertise Commander? Isn't it security's job to lull individuals into a sense of comfort to facilitate the telling of the truth?" Solon asked pushing off the desk. He took the PADD out of McCann's hand with little resistance. "Perhaps I should contact Lieutenant Haas instead."

"Naah," Shane growled. _He knows how to push my buttons, _he thought taking the PADD back. "You've made your point. I'll take care of this …right after I clean up a bit." He ran his hand over his chin to make his point.

"Personally I think you should leave it," Solon remarked motioning at the stubble. "It gives you a more approachable persona than the clean-shaven look. Perhaps it will help break the ice, instead of the _greetings I'm the acting-captain_ speech you gave earlier."

Catch scowled and shook his head. _That wasn't exactly the way I said it, _he retorted silently as he rubbed his face again. The whiskers were itching his face, but against his better judgment, he was going to leave it. _Maybe Solon is right, the whiskers will say that I was more concerned with finding them rather than sticking to Starfleet protocol, _he thought. "I take it you released them to quarters?" Catch asked as he tapped the PADD against the side of his hand.

"Yes," Solon replied with a sly expression on his face.

"Okay then, I'll check back with you later," Catch remarked as he backed out of the room.

00-00

Dust filtered the air in front of her face. The darkness was deafening and the heaviness stifling. A sticky warm wetness soaked her shift and caused her body to tremble. She felt suffocated and trapped and as images of her wild imagination sadistically teased her mind, she was becoming her own victim.

Kelly Morgan twisted against the forces holding her down. Her guilt and remorse over her actions held top card. It sickened her that enjoyed what the guard had done to her. How she could find pleasure in his callous handling of her body or the foul breath against her neck. For as human as he seemed, the simple act was strangely different and more painful that she ever cared to remember. Yet she did remember, her mind played tricks on her as she lay in her final prison, trapped within her own anguish, her mind punishing her with its evil twists.

Kelly was convinced she was caught in some sadistic game of torture. Both the interaction with the guard and her conflicted reaction were the prelude to this moment. Perhaps he injected her with some medication that induced the delusions that had plagued her for the better part of an hour. Seeing her fellow crew mates disappear in a yellow haze and the imaginary explosions that caused the building to collapse around her all fed her over-active imagination. What she thought were Starfleet search parties were only execution squads made up of the guards she thought she could trust. Their laughter rang in her ears as she ran as fast and as far as her legs could take her.

Or until the building came crashing down around her. After that, Kelly had difficulty delineating between her reality and the darkness of the room. Every noise was amplified, every image blurred to a comic portion around her. With every breath came a nasty film of dirt and her medical training told her eventually she would suffocate from the lack of oxygen. She knew her death would be slow and painful, allowing her to remember every sickening detail of her life for the past twenty-four years.

Kelly felt her body shudder as she contemplated her morality. _I can't … I can't relive my life in slow motion. _She struggled against the barriers that confined her and cried out as pain sliced through her. _I'm stuck and I'm dying a slow ugly death. _Kelly wiggled her hand free and ran it down the side of her torso, through the warm stickiness. _I'm bleeding out, _she thought as she struggled to get her other arm free.

"There has to be something around her to help me," she growled through gritted teeth. "I'm not just going to lay here and die!"

00-00

"Honey, I'm home," Tucker said as he stepped through the door of his quarters. He struggled with the placket hook of his uniform top as he walked toward the wardrobe and finally managed to unhook and unzip the garment. He pulled the top off and threw it in the hamper.

"T'Pol?" he called again as he peered through the pocket door to her side of the stateroom. "Huh, wonder where she is?" he muttered when he realized the room was empty. "Doesn't relieved of duty mean stay in your quarters?" Trip continued to ramble on as he walked into the head. He stripped off the rest of his uniform and flipped on the shower faucet.

Trip stepped into the shower as the water was heating up and let the luke warm water awaken his senses. He washed quickly and then took a few minutes to let the hot water pound against the sore, tight muscles of his back and neck. The steam from the small enclosure relaxed his mind and opened his pores. He rinsed off one final time, flicked the faucet off and grabbed the towel hanging over the door.

"Did you stay within the four minute time limit?" T'Pol asked him from the doorway.

Trip chuckled as he toweled off. "Give or take a minute or two," he replied. He could barely make out her form as she stood just inside the door. "I could 've had a good reason for being on the violation report tomorrow if you would have joined me," he added as he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked over to the sink.

"And cause the ship to remain on water restriction?" T'Pol questioned rhetorically. "Why are you back?" she asked.

"I can't stop and see my little lady?" he asked as he lathered shaving cream on his face.

"It is not your tendency in the middle of a mission," T'Pol replied crossing her arms at her chest.

"Well, these are different times darlin," he said running the razor across his skin. He arched his head back to get at the underside of his chin. "Ten years ago Archer would have never left the away team on the surface. He would have stayed in the fight until every last one of our people had been rescued." Trip was quiet as he made a few more strokes of the razor. "Now, protocol dictates that we retreat and let a reconnaissance team go in for the recovery."

"It is a prudent course of action for the preservation of lives," T'Pol commented. "Darlington and the Andorian vessels were less than two hours away."

"We had two capable ships," Trip argued shaking the razor at her.

"One of which had sustained considerable damage in an earlier attack," T'Pol said playing devil's advocate.

"Are you quoting policy to me?" he asked splashing a handful of water on his face.

"I'm merely reminding you of the reasons why pulling back was the best decision," she started to say just as he cut her off.

"Tell that to Rybaiski," he remarked curtly as he tossed the razor on the vanity shelf. He leaned against the sink and shook his head. "Sorry, I've been a little edgy the past hour. Engineering kicked me out of the department a half hour ago and then Gervase practically told me to take a nap." Trip sighed heavily and opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve his toothbrush. "I'm feeling a little unwanted."

"I can relate to the sensation," T'Pol replied walking closer to him. "I'm bored myself."

"Wellthaziffrnt," Trip sputtered with a foamy toothbrush stuck in his mouth. "Yuronmeticaleve."

T'Pol pulled a washcloth of the towel rack and wiped the shaving gel off Trip's face. Her fingers lingered over his ear lobe and gently moved over the back of his neck.

Trip rinsed his mouth with water and stow his toothbrush back in the cabinet. "You got sumthin in mind?" he said turning slowly to face his mate.

"You did say you were feeling unwanted," T'Pol replied coyly.

Trip laughed heartily as he felt his body respond to her invitation. He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the bed, losing the towel along the way.

00-00

"Mistress I'm picking up three ships entering the sector," the engineer commented from the far side of the Anoree bridge.

"Our ships?" Elnora yelled anxiously as she jumped up from her seat and ran closer to the view screen. "They're answering our distress signal!"

"No ma'm," the male stammered. "Two have an Andorian signature. The other is…" his voice trailed off as he mentally cursed under his breath.

"The other is what?" she screamed turning to face him. The brown and green robe whipped around and trailed through the nearly dried puddle of blood on the carpet. She stormed across the bridge in his direction. "What other ship is entering the sector?" she asked enunciating every word.

"Ah, its Starfleet ma'm," he muttered barely audible.

"Starfleet?" she roared. Her voice reverberated across the deck panels. "I thought we had chased those cowards away!" Elnora darted around the railing to look at the monitor at the engineering station. "Where? Show me where?" she screamed as she slammed her hand against the panel.

"We're receiving a hail from the Andorian vessel Mistress," the communications officer across the room reported.

"On screen," Elnora yelled. She patted her face with her hands and tried to smooth her scales back on her head. Just as the screen flickered to life, she pulled the robe around her body in a regal manner. "My dear Andorian friends!" she exclaimed as the image of the Andorian commander appeared on her screen. Her voice was laced with an odd pleasantness. "I cannot thank you enough for coming to our aide. We have been attacked by a ruthless enemy and have no engi…"

"I am Commander Shurlox of the Andorian Imperial Guard. Stand down your weapons and prepare to be boarded," the aging blue male remarked curtly completely cutting off Elnora.

"What?" Elnora blurted out in confusion. "Thank you Commander Shurlox for your assistance…"

"I'm not here to offer any assistance. The high counsel on Anoree and Ambassador Gevale has authorized the Imperial Guard to take you, your crew and vessel into custody."

"For what purpose?" Elnora asked. The fake niceties had melted away to confusion.

"For crimes against the High Family and the Anoree government," Shurlox replied flatly.

"I am the daughter of the Ambassador Gevale and I know nothing of such order!" Elnora bellowed as she walked up to the monitor and stared blankly at the camera.

"That is because your father has publically disowned you."

"Agghh!!!" Elnora screamed attacking the monitor with both fists. She stopped when her bloody hands began to smear the viewer. "There will be no surrender! " Elnora turned on her heel and ran frantically around the small bridge. "No one on my crew will turn themselves over to you!"

"I'd think twice about what you're saying before you continue speaking for your crew. Your ship is disabled and engines are down. Your weapons are no match for the three of us," Shurlox remarked dryly. "We will use any force necessary to take you into custody."

"**GO AHEAD**! We have already defeated two Starfleet vessels. Adding three more to our victory count will be an easy task," Elnora snarled into the screen. "You will not take me or any of my crew alive!"

"If that's the way you want to play it," Shurlox commented as turned his chair to the right and motioned to a crewman off screen. "Lock all weapons on the Anoree vessel."

00-00

Commander McCann walked slowly down the corridor staring at his notes on the PADD in his hand. He turned the corner on deck three and nearly ran over Chief Alvarez as the man darted out of the mess hall.

"Whoa, excuse me," Catch mumbled as he bounced off the chief. The PADD clattered to the deck.

"Oops my fault sir," Freddie Alvarez replied as he stooped to pick up the device. "I guess I'm too used to only ten people being on board."

Catch eyed the latino carefully for a moment. "Weren't you on lockdown most of that time Chief?" he asked taking the PADD back from the engineer.

"More or less," Alvarez replied shrugging his shoulders. "We could go to the mess hall or the gym or our workstations and then back to our rooms."

Catch nodded slowly. "Your own quarters or were you grouped together in a certain area?" He had read the chief's statement and knew the information already, but asked the question anyway to try to put the detainee's statement in prospective.

"My quarters," Freddie answered.

"What about everyone else?"

"They were all in their own quarters."

"Spread out all over the ship?" McCann asked as the picture started to gain focus.

"They weren't the smartest group of bandits that's for sure," Freddie replied. "The door jams were bugged and there was a guard on every deck near the turbolift."

"That's how they kept tabs on all of you… if you left the room through the door?" Shane asked baiting Alvarez slightly.

"Luckily for us, they didn't bug the access vents," Alvarez replied as he keenly picked up McCann's drift.

"They talk much?" Shane asked smirking that the chief had busted him.

"Not at all sir," Freddie replied. "Not that we could have understood them, none of us had translators on us."

"So they couldn't understand you either?"

"Nope, we just used universal hand gestures …eat, walk, work," Alvarez replied going through the motions with his hands.

"Interesting," Catch remarked tapping the PADD on the side of his hand. "Okay, that will be all chief," Catch said dismissing the engineer. He continued to walk down the corridor toward sickbay and passed through the door just as one of the Phoenix medics were leaving.

"Solon," McCann called out to catch his brother-in-laws attention as he walked into the room.

"Commander, finished so soon?" Solon replied looking up from his workstation. "What information were you able to obtain?"

"Other than you already talked to the crew regarding this exact matter?" Shane stated waving the PADD around. "Was there some purpose to that little exercise?"

"Yes," Solon replied flatly. "I needed information that I felt you would be best skilled in retrieving and you needed a distraction."

"I needed a distraction?" McCann guffawed. "Says who?"

"The bridge crew reported that you seemed agitated," Solon replied crossing his arms at his chest.

"They said that?" McCann muttered suddenly embarrassed that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. "Well, considering the circumstances …"

"Which was precisely the reason I enlisted your help," Solon remarked. "I was looking out for your own best interest. Lieutenant Dempsey just contacted me regarding Darlington. They locked on to Commander Rybaiski's emergency beacon and transported the away team aboard ship."

"Birdie and the baby?" Shane blurted out as relief washed over him. He was miffed that Dempsey contacted Solon rather than him about Darlington; however, he was sure Solon had a part in that conspiracy as well.

"Colonel Lynch was rescued, that's all the information I have for you at the moment," Solon said. "I'll keep you updated on her status as I get it. In the meantime, what did you find out?" Solon prompted McCann giving him no time to wallow in more self-pity.

Shane mentally thanked god for her rescue and that his brother in law understood him enough to save his ass before saying another word. "You were right … their stories are a little off," Shane finally remarked. "They all said they were forced to engage in sexual activities. I don't think anyone could force me to participate, don't we all have a fail-safe mechanism to protect ourselves in that manner?"

"At times the body can shut down certain reactions as a protective device," Solon agreed.

"Like a turtle hiding in its shell?"

"A crude reference, albeit accurate. A male can temper his body to elude an erection just as a female can shut down her responses toward an attacker," Solon commented.

McCann leaned against the counter. He shifted the weight on his feet and scanned the room with his eyes. "The guys said they couldn't resist the activities in the area nicknamed the "rec room". They would be fine in the corridor, but once they walked into the room, it was nearly impossible to resist _the temptations," _Shane remarked wistfully.

"As if they were drugged," Solon said filling in the sentence.

"Were they drugged?" Shane asked looking up at the doctor. "Did you notice anything strange on the blood tests?"

"Nothing obv...."

"Wait," Catch blurted out holding his hand up. He turned around to the nearest computer terminal and pulled out the crude map that Lake and Chu had provided before the rescue mission. "We didn't transport anyone from the area Crewman Lake labeled the rec room, but Phoenix did." Catch turned around and grinned at Solon. "I think a call to your husband is in order."

00-00

The shower door opened slowly as the shadow of a man stepped into the steamy latrine. The towel was snatched from the rack and ruffled over his damp hair and skin to soak up the excess liquid. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped to the sink and sighed heavily. He pulled the toothbrush from the dob kit and squirted some toothpaste on it. He shoved it into his mouth and made a second attempt to erase the foul taste that was ruining his mood. A few moments later, the door chime rang.

"Whozeits?" he mumbled before spitting out the foam.

"Quartermaster."

He swished some water around his mouth before spitting again and grabbed the hand towel of the rack. "About time," he grumbled as he walked to the door. "It's been almost thirty minutes since I ordered some new gear." He stepped to the door and activated the door control. It slid open to reveal a very attractive Andorian female holding a stack of clothing in her hands.

"Corporal Navalle," Rybaiski stammered feeling a little exposed in only his towel. "You are not the quartermaster."

"Very perceptive Commander," Navalle commented as she walked through the doorway without an invitation. "I just came from sickbay," she added setting his clothing on the desk on the opposite side of the room.

Rybaiski watched her cautiously. Every movement was deliberated and provocative. Navalle sashayed through the room and deposited his uniform on desk on the opposite side, on purpose. _I'm wearing only a towel and the woman of my dreams is teasing me! _Stu sucked in some air and cleared his throat before responding.

"Ah … and what's the report?" he asked trying to figure on what to do with his hands. He finally decided to lean against the wardrobe near the door, keeping some distance between them.

"Kopat was released to quarters about ten minutes ago," Navalle stated as she ran a finger across the back of the chair. "But not before driving the med techs insane."

"Huh, not used to being around a tellarite?" he muttered with a slight grin on his face.

"Apparently not," Navalle smiled. "Jeeter is sleeping. The three females we found in the lab … Barlett, Tariq and Nye are stabilized. Ensign Morgan has been sedated. She is a little confused about her whereabouts." The Andorian female turned and walked slowly toward him.

"And Colonel Lynch? Did you get an update on her?" Rybaiski asked knowing that any status report on the colonel wouldn't be good. It was the reason his uniform had been soaked with blood as he tried frantically to keep her alive until they were rescued. He didn't need a medical doctor to tell him that her condition was grave or that another five minutes on the planet would have left him taking McCann's shit for the rest of his Starfleet career and then some.

"She's still in surgery," Navalle whispered barely audible.

_When did she get so close? _Stu asked himself as he tried to process her motive. Before he could even protest, Navalle violated that last inch of his comfort bubble and brushed her lips against his. Stu could feel the heat between their bodies rising and eagerly kissed her back, pulling her body in closer. He kept his eyes open so he could watch the way her eyelashes flicked across her cheek. _Gawd that's sexy, _he thought as her warm lips pressed against his and her soft tongue gently probed his mouth.

Rybaiski sucked in air as he felt her hands on his waist. His organ was erect before she had even got close to him. He barely registered the wet towel slidnig down his leg. The warmth of her fingers touching him quickly replaced the momentary chill in the air around his privates. He could barely think straight as Navalle began to stroke her hand across his energy, teasing him delicately, working him into frenzy.

Stu pulled Navalle in closer and fumbled with the placket of her uniform, then with the zipper before getting her t-shirt out of her pants. He snaked his hand underneath the fabric and went right for her bluish globes of goodness. He moaned into her mouth as he squeezed her nipples between his fingers. It was too good to be true; she felt so much like a human, reacted to him like a human, even tasted like a human. Stu slid his hands across the waistband of her pants just as she slammed him against the bulkhead.

"Hey!" he yelped. He watched Navalle smile sadistically and drop to her knees. In a second his body knew nothing more than pure bliss.

Navalle bathed his organ in a hot, wet mixture of magma. She moved her tongue over his energy in ways that no woman had ever touched him. _Her hands, geezus! _Stu moaned silently as Navalle's fingers worked their magic on his balls while her tongue worked him over.

"Oh gawd Navalle," Stu moaned as he felt all the blood rushing to his head. "Shit!" he cursed as he braced himself against the wall. "Shit!" he repeated as he bit his lip and pushed himself deeper into her mouth. _God! her tongue, _he thought as his eyes rolled up in his head. _Fuck that feels .. like she had two tongues ... shit! Ugh gawd! Ugh, her hands! _His mind rambled as the sensations washed through him. He slid easily down her throat and then began to rock hip hips in time with music only audible in his head. Rybaiski couldn't help himself as his control began to slip away. "Oh fuck! Nav, shit!" he yelped as he pulled back from her. She sucked him back in just as he blew his load and deposited his seed down her throat.

"Fuck!" he growled under his breath as his body twitched from a late spasm. He looked down to see Navalle gently kissing the inside of his leg. "Corporal," he started to grumble as his brain reminded him how inappropriate the encounter was ... and how it broke any one of ten Starfleet regulations.

"Shh," she mumbled standing quickly and covering his mouth with hers. Stu could barely protest as Navalle pushed her tongue past his lips and massaged his throbbing organ gently in her hand. The heat between them was unbearable. Rybaiski heard a zip and the sound of fabric rustling in front of him. Before he could open his eyes or protest further, he felt Navalle guide his hand between her legs, toward the molten lava of her core.

"Corporal," Stu mumbled again just as Navalle pushed his fingers into her center. Stu could feel her walls spasm around him as his organ reacted to her heat.

"Do you really want to stop this Commander," her husky voice radiated through his head.

"This is really inappropriate," he muttered in between kissing her lips and neck. "Geezus, I want to lick you," he said aloud pushing her back against the wardrobe. Stu dropped to his knees and looked up at the goddess in front of him. _I'm going to regret this in the morning, _he thought as he leaned in toward her body and flicked his tongue near his fingers. He heard a low moan above his head and felt her hands work their way into his hair. _I'll deal with the morning in the morning, _he decided as his organ urged him on. Stu plunged his fingers deeper into Navalle's core and nipped at her opening with his lips. Her anatomy was so similar to a human, he nearly forgot that she was different. She responded the same, grinded her hips against his face and gasped in pleasure. Stu knew he was getting to Navalle, taking her to the edge when a flood of moisture ran over his fingers and splashed against his tongue. He could hear her moans getting louder. _A little too loud, _he thought as he stood and pulled her down on the bed. She didn't resist.

"Fuck me Commander," she begged as he rolled over on top of Navalle. the two of them frantically tugged Navalle's t-shirt over her head. Stu sat back and admired the naked female laying beneath him, waiting for him, giving herself to him. Rybaiski moved his energy around the opening to her core and leaned down to run his tongue down the side of her neck. "Make your mark on me," she whispered hoarsely in his ear.

_Fuck Romeo! Trip is going to have my ass for this! _The last rational part of Stu's brain cursed as he captured Navalle's lips with his. A faint memory of Dempsey's bar-room bragging echoed in his head. _I'm in deep shit! _he scolded himself as he trailing kisses down her neck to her breast and flicked his tongue across her nipples. He felt Navalle squirm below him, her hands grasping at his ass pulling his body closer to hers. "Navalle," he gasped. "Slow down. There's no rush," he panted bracing himself over her.

Navalle trailed her hand down the side of his face and ran her thumb across his lips. She smiled seducatively and bucked her hips upward, driving his energy into her core. "Commander," she moaned throwing her head back against the pillow.

"Ugh, Corporal," Stu mumbled incoherently as instinct took over and logical thought left his brain. _This will be worth the court-martial, _was the last fleeting thought he had as thrust himself whole heartedly into Navalle's core.

00-00

The brightness of the room was the first thing that caught her attention. The beeping of the monitor above her head was the second. Her eyes fluttered open and she squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light. She scanned the room for a sign of something. _Something I recognize or someone, _she thought. Her line of sight was limited due to the curtain dividers in the room. She pushed her body up on her side and craned her head around the corner of hers. She could still make out the silhouettes of the bodies lying on the tables. _One, two, three, four, five, plus me, _she mentally counted. "Six more victims," she muttered aloud.

"Oh, you're awake," a human male said to her as he leaned back to peer around the curtain.

Kelly Morgan watched the male warily as he stepped into the curtained area and walked over to her side. He held a scanner in his hand and waved it in her direction, causing Kelly to flinch unexpectedly. "Who are you?" she asked cautiously.

The man slid the tricorder in his pocket and smiled. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Al Unser, chief medical officer of the starship Darlington," he replied warmly.

"Starship?" Kelly mumbled looking at him suspiciously. Part of her wanted to believe she was on a starship. The room resembled the photos she had seen of the updated medical facilities on the new ships. The other part of her brain was convinced she was still the victim of a mind altering Anoree drug.

"Yes, Darlington, NX-14," he said with a concerned expression on his face. "Can you tell me your name? I've already scanned your electronic dog tag of course, but I want to make sure we're on the same page ensign."

"Kelly Crouton," Ensign Morgan replied carefully. She screwed her name up on purpose. Something wasn't right about this … the room is too clean, this guy is too cute. _If he already knows my name, why is he asking? _she wondered eyeballing him.

"Funny ensign," he remarked with a half smile. "It's perfectly understandable that you're cautious. You've been in prison for the past fifteen days. The three other females from your crew are in the same boat."

"Females?" Kelly questioned as the hairs on the back of her neck prickling to alert status.

"Yeah, ah Lieutenant Nye, Ensign Tarig and Sergeant Bartlett," he commented as he pulled a PADD from his coat pocket.

"No," Kelly argued shaking her head.

"No what?" Commander Unser asked.

"You're lying!" Kelly screeched as she tried to get out of the bed. "They're dead!"

"Ensign, relax," Unser remarked as he tried to rub her shoulder comfortingly.

As soon as he touched her, Kelly went ballistic. She flew off the biobed and tried to dash out from behind the curtain. Her escape was cut short when another crewman in the medical bay blocked her path.

"Stay away from me! This is not a starship!" she screamed looking around her frantically with a confusion expression plastered on her face.

"Ensign Morgan!" Commander Unser called to her in a command type voice. "Can you hear me? Look at me Ensign."

Kelly turned toward the voice and watched the image morph from a human male to a Naree guard. "Get away from me! You aren't going to trick me. There are no other human females here!" she said slowly.

With each word, she backed up right into the arms of two med techs standing behind her. The techs tried to subdue her quickly when their bodies made contact. The three struggled and fell to the floor in a heap of kicking legs and flailing arms. As quickly as the fracas started, it came to an abrupt end when Commander Unser was able to administer a shot of sedative in Ensign Kelly Morgan's jugular.

Commander Unser rolled back on his haunches and stared down at Ensign Morgan's limp form. "That didn't go any better than last time," he grumbled as he deposited the hypo-spray back into the pocket of his lab coat. "Let's just hope that the third time's a charm," he said waving the med techs in to move her back to the biobed.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Personal log Lieutenant Commander Shane McCann. Thursday, November 22, 2164.

_I find it rather ironic that on day most Americans pay homage to our founding fathers, Phoenix and Columbia wrap up their mission to retrieve the missing Columbia crew and begin the trek back to earth. _

_There any many things to be thankful for and yet many things that it will take some members of this crew years to move past and forget. As much as I would like to argue that the Phoenix crew has not been affected by the events these past few days, none of us are immune from the emotional damage…including myself. _

_Captain Pearson of the starship Darlington and his crew, Commander Shurlox from the Andorian Imperial Guard and their ships rescued the away team, located four injured females and recovered the bodies of twenty-seven of Columbia's crew. There are six crewmembers, four females and two males, unaccounted for and currently listed as missing in action. Two members of the away team lost their lives and one is struggling to hold on to hers. _

"Computer pause recording," Shane mumbled steepling his hands in front of his face. He closed his eyes just as a tear escaped his lids and rolled slowly down his cheek. "Shit," he cursed as he tried to wipe it away, only to find more in its place.

McCann pushed back from the desk and turned the chair so he could stand. He took a step and slumped against the windowsill. Feelings of regret and remorse flooded his body as his mind took him back to the argument he and Birdie got into just before the mission. _I was wrong, _he tried to reason, a_nd I was right. _Shane sighed heavily. "Shit, I can't even win the argument in my mind," he whispered.

He chuckled at how pathetic it sounded. The reality was Shane couldn't find a balance between the egotistical persona that he used to be and the more humble man that he had become. After Birdie had called off their engagement, he played the field. Women practically threw themselves at his feet. Yet he was never satisfied with any of them and he could never find a way to fill the emptiness in his soul. When he was confronted with the prospect of serving on the same ship as Birdie, instead of allowing the relationship to repair itself naturally, Shane pushed the issue with her. Of course, he got exactly what he wanted, he had his career and the love of his life and everything was perfect…until the day she told him she was pregnant.

That's when he started to lose perspective. When he should have been ecstatic that she was having his child, he fretted over how it would damage his chance at command. When he should have separated his personal feelings for her from her duty, he had an argument with about everything that was wrong with their relationship in the corridor in front of half the crew. _I don't know how the captain does it, _Shane thought in retrospect. _Maybe its Vulcan logic or that weird link the two of them have, like the link between Solon and Zack, _he told himself. _On the other hand, maybe I just suck at command, _he wondered as the battle continued in his head. _I sent the woman I love, the woman that was carrying my child into the middle of a battlefield and now she's …. _Catch pushed off the wall and shook his head trying to clear his thoughts.

"She's not dead yet, McCann," he whispered as he walked to the latrine. "And I can't be weak when I see her. I need to be strong to help her get through this," he added as he flicked on the faucet. He held his hands under the water before cupping them together and splashing the cool water on his face. The door chime rang just as he pulled the towel off the rack.

"Just a second!" he hollered out as he patted his face dry and tossed the towel back on the rack. "Enter!" he added as he walked out of the head and watched Ensign Sandy Miner enter the ready room.

--

Ensign Sandy Miner eyed the commander cautiously as she stepped inside the door. McCann was very different from Commander T'Pol and even more so from Captain Hernandez. The only word she could use to describe his command style was chaotic. One minute he was by the book and then next he was joking around like one of the team. Scuttlebutt was rampant through the ship about McCann's argument with Colonel Lynch and their alleged relationship. Sandy kept it all in perspective though; at least she had until the comm report came across the wire stating the Colonel Lynch had been critically injured during the mission.

Despite that McCann kept it in check around most of the crew, the bridge staff saw a different side to the man. It was clear the colonel's welfare was his main concern. Lieutenant Dempsey and Lieutenant Ganzer made it a point to take care of the trivial command matters. Sandy ran interference for most everything else. McCann's moods were _erratic _at best and he only seemed himself around Dempsey, Solon and oddly enough Miner.

"Commander," she greeted him, her ponytail swinging against her neck. "I wanted to update you on our status." She held a PADD in her hand and tapped in against her palm nervously as he approached her. "Are you alright sir?" she asked when she noticed his face and eyes were red.

"Yeah," McCann sighed. "I .... tired, just splashed some water on my face. What'd'ya got?" he asked inclining his head at the PADD.

"The Naree guards have been transported out of our brig to cargo bay four on Phoenix," she reported reading the information off the PADD. "Too bad it's an interior bay," she muttered under her breath.

"That would be the easy out Ensign," McCann said flatly. "They need to pay for what they did, whether they were under orders or not."

"Right," Miner replied slowly. "The Anoree females have transitioned over to Phoenix to conference room delta and um Commander McCann," she grimaced uncomfortably at redundant use of Commander and McCann in front of him, "has released most of our crew back to the ship."

"What was that face about?" Catch questioned.

"Oh, sorry, it's just weird to talk to you about … using your name, you know, Commander McCann?" she stammered nervously.

"Occupational hazard when you serve on the same ship and hold the same rank as your brother," Shane replied stepping over to the desk. "Do you have any relatives in Starfleet?"

"No sir," Miner answered wondering where he was going with the question. "My siblings are still in high school, but maybe somday."

"Consider yourself lucky for the moment then," he remarked. "There is nothing worse than having a relative breathing down your neck," he commented reflectively. "What about our other guests?" he asked tapping the keyboard.

"They'll be moved to Phoenix once Darlington departs," Sandy informed him still confused over the commentary. She watched him pack up his things at the desk.

"Great. I ah … have a meeting on Phoenix," Catch said walking around his desk. "You'll have the bridge while I'm gone."

Sandy's eyes widened and she shot him a look of terror. "Me sir?" she stammered trying to decide if he was joking or not.

"Yes Ensign,"' he answered nodding his head.

"There are … others .. on board … higher level officers…" Miner choked out. "Lieutenant Dempsey,"

"Dempsey is busy with repairs," McCann replied flatly.

"Lieutenant Ganzer, Lieutenant Haas,"

"I ordered Ganzer to take a nap an hour ago and Haas isn't a bridge officer," Shane said crossing his arms at his chest. "Ensign you've had bridge duty plenty of times. What's the problem now?"

"Respectfully sir, it's a lot different when there are only ten people on board," she said quietly feeling the PADD in her hand slip from her sweat. She wiped her hands on her pant leg nervously.

"Just pretend they are invisible," Shane replied flippantly.

"Like that is going to work?" She argued. "There are officers coming back from Phoenix that are going aren't going to like taking order from an ensign, Commander," she added finally getting her confidence back. "Arrogant officers," she added.

"Then don't act like an ensign Sandy," he said. "Look, you aren't just any ensign, you're a bridge officer and part of the senior staff. Not to mention that you helped Chief Alvarez mastermind an escape plan that led to the rescue of nearly half the crew. If anyone gives you any lip, you have my permission to shoot them," he said curtly with a tinge of a smile on his face.

"Yes sir," she answered reluctantly as she followed him out of the ready room to Columbia's bridge.

00-00

"Commander, you need to wake up."

Rybaiski opened his eyes and scanned the small stateroom before turning his head to the right and focusing on the naked blue form curled around him. _Gawd, she's beautiful, _he thought to himself as he ran his hand across her arm. "When are you going to stop calling me that?" he said huskily as he peppered the side of her throat with kisses.

"It's the only way you'll listen to me," Navalle purred as her fingers danced around his skin.

"I could order you, Corporal," he snickered into her ear. "It's not exactly appropriate for you to call me by my rank when your naked body is wrapped around mine and my tongue has touch every one of your orifices." He rolled onto the cradle of her legs and began to kiss her deeply before she could protest further.

"Stu!" she yelped when they came up for air. "We're docking with Phoenix in less than three hours."

"So?"

"So don't you have a meeting with Captain Pearson before then?" she asked pushing her palms flat against his chest to prevent him from kissing her again.

"It's not for ah …forty eight minutes," he said as he rubbed up against her. "Plenty of time to take care of business before I request permission to disembark… that is, unless you're not interested?" he asked her teasingly.

"I didn't say that," she replied mischievously.

00-00

"T'Pol to Captain Tucker."

Trip smiled inwardly as he reached in his sleeve pocket and pulled out his communicator. "Tucker here."

"Are you available for lunch?"

Trip rolled his eyes and looked at the PADD in his hand to check the time. _When is she going back to work? _he thought carefully blocking his thoughts. "I could meet you in thirty minutes or so," he said audible into the communicator.

"Very well," T'Pol replied curtly cutting the line.

Trip stowed the communicator back in his pocket and walked down the deck to the infirmary. He passed several crewmembers along the way and caught the puzzled expressions on their faces. The shouting from sickbay perplexed him as well when he turned the corner.

"Idiots!"

"Hey!" Tucker called to the Chief Medical Officer as he came through the door. Wanna tell me what your beef is? I could hear your ranting half way down the hall!"

"I read the medical report from Commander Unser," McCann said as he paced around the lab station. "He's diagnosed Ensign Morgan as delusional and manic."

"So?" Trip offered shrugging his shoulders.

"I'd hardly call her maniac," McCann growled. "Scared and confused maybe."

"And you're making this diagnoses based on what?" Tucker asked tilting his head.

"Based on the statements of the detainees that were around her," McCann said flipping a PADD on the counter top.

"Detainees that are suffering from post traumatic stress disorder?" Trip asked resting his arms on the counter behind him.

"Now you sound like Unser," McCann smarted back to him.

"When was the last time you slept doc?" Trip asked McCann.

"I don't have time. If you haven't noticed the beds are all full," McCann grumbled running his hand through his short blondish brown hair.

Tucker watched the man who appeared to be living on the edge of a caffeine high. It had been a rough forty-eight hours and Tucker suspected Zack had been awake for most of it. He would have been too, if Gervase hadn't insisted on mandatory breaks. Apparently, the XO had forgotten to include the doctor in on the sleep cycle. "Zack, I know sick-bay is full, but you're useless to anyone if you're asleep on your feet. You have two capable med techs on duty that can watch the store for a while…"

"Darlington will be here shortly Captain," Zack interrupted impatiently.

"Captain Pearson and Commander Unser have assured me that Colonel Lynch is stabilized. She doesn't need you to be doting on her every second that she's here," Trip replied frankly. "Solon is on his way over with Catch, so if anything comes up it will be covered."

"Fine," McCann retorted quickly making it look like he was busy on his monitor.

Tucker bristled at his response but let it drop for the moment. It was just another example of how much he needed a break. Trip knew that Zack knew he was right. The captain just needed the right moment to make it an order, rather than a suggestion. He pushed off the counter and walked down the line of biobeds that contained three recovering Columbia crew.

"Any sign of life from Burrows?" Tucker said as he made his way back toward the lab station.

"Nope," McCann replied somberly.

"How long are you planning to leave him on life support?

"Until his next of kin signs the order to shut him off. I sent the request to Starfleet this morning," Zack remarked as he kicked the stool next to him out of his way. "Captain, I have a request," he said before Tucker could make a comment. "I'd like to send Lieutenant Mahoney, Crewman Richert and Ichara to Darlington to retrieve Ensign Morgan."

"Why?" Tucker asked. "Rybaiski can escort her back."

"I think it would be better if Morgan's escort was someone she was familiar with," Zack said. "Commander Unser said that every time they told her she had been rescued with other females from Columbia, she had an outburst."

"I thought the crew had made statements…"

"That no other females were alive? Yes, they all did. In fact, when they found out that we had rescued females other than the captain and Morgan they were stunned," McCann agreed.

"Maybe that's why Ensign Morgan is freaked out," Trip commented.

"Which is exactly why I'm so pissed off!" McCann said. _Loudly_. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled under his breath when he saw Tucker wince.

"That's fine," Trip said. "Anything else I need an update on? Besides the STD thing?"

"There is," McCann replied. "Callee, the humanoid female that Rybaiski rescued with Lake and Chu … she's pregnant."

Tucker twisted his lip to the side as he processed that information. "Do I want to know by who?" he asked cautiously not wanting to hear what he was sure McCann was about to tell him.

"Crewman Lake," McCann answered.

"They're compatible?" Trip asked rhetorically.

"Apparently quite compatible. She's pregnant with twins," McCann remarked handing Tucker the PADD with the information on it. "Her species gestational period is seven months."

Trip scanned the data on the screen and mentally counted the time in his head. _She's three weeks along now, it will take us roughly two months to get back to Starbase One, which leaves her four months to her delivery date, _he rambled to himself. "Does Lake know?" he asked handing the PADD back to the doctor. He had other questions, but now was not the time to ask them.

"I informed him an hour ago," McCann said. "He's…ah, shocked. I haven't released him for duty on Columbia yet. I'm still monitoring his eye and I think he and Callee need some alone time."

"How's she taking it?"

"She's surprised, but relieved that it was Crewman Lake. They seemed to be quite fond of each other," McCann replied.

"Yeah, we'll see about how in love they are when we're back at the starbase," Trip said thoughtfully.

"Don't be a pessimist," Zack chided him. "Just because they came together under dire circumstances doesn't mean it couldn't work."

"Oh brother, enough with the hopeless romantic bizz. She's a prostitute Zack," Tucker replied waving his arm around in frustration. "A _dancer _as Riley called it. It's her job to swoon men into her web."

"Speaking of Riley, have you told her Ichara is on board?" McCann asked quickly changing the subject when he noticed the irritated expression in the captain's eye.

"No. I didn't know she was the same person."

"Well, I did a little investigating and she is. I find it surprising they haven't run into each other when Riley does her morning PT on deck eleven."

"Riley isn't running on deck eleven," Tucker replied as he walked toward the door.

"What? She's been logging it every morning." McCann questioned.

"She's been running on the treadmills in the gym."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. She won't go down to deck eleven without Lieutenant Haas. She thinks it's haunted," Trip remarked as he walked to the door. He paused and looked back at the doctor. "Doc, bed ... now." he said sternly. "That's an order."

00-00

Riley walked into the mess hall and ordered a bowl of strawberry ice cream from the protein resequencer. It was prime mealtime and nearly every table was occupied to capacity around the room, except one. Riley weaved through the tables until she ended up near the back of the room by the window. "Mind if I join you?" she asked the lone crewmember facing the wall. "The rest of the room is full up," she added when he gave her an odd glare. The entire side of his face was purple and the white part of his eye was nearly blood red. His appearance didn't surprise her much, beatings were a common sight in her former life.

"Sure," he mumbled as he pushed his tray out of the way.

"Riley," she said as she sat down. "My name's Riley."

"Crewman Lake," the man mumbled.

"Your first name is crewman?" Riley asked with a smile on her face. _He's cute,_ she thought as she teased her spoon across the top of the ice cream._ Even with the bruise. _Her question evoked a smile on his face.

"No, my name is Brice," he answered. "You're not Starfleet are you?"

"Why do you say that?" Riley stuck a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and looked at him innocently.

"Most Starfleet personnel don't give a damn about first names," Lake said leaning toward the table. "Besides you seem a little young to be part of the crew."

"I'm not part of the crew, exactly," she said between spoonfuls. "I live aboard the ship."

"You live on the ship, but you're not part of the crew?" Brice questioned. "Since when does Starfleet allow civilian's onboard?"

"When they are subject experts in certain areas," she replied frankly. It wasn't a lie. She had helped during the rescue. _At least when they were trying to disable that hunter ship, _she reminded herself. Riley scraped the spoon across the top of the desert again and slowly licked the cream of the spoon seductively. She was flirting with this boy and laying it on thick.

"You're a subject expert in what?" Brice questioned her.

"That depends," Riley replied in a low sultry voice. She played with the spoon and the ice cream some more and tossed her head to the side in a teasing manner. "I'm an expert in many things."

"Riley."

She froze in her tracks when she heard the captain's voice behind her head. The tone in his voice told her one thing and she didn't need to turn to look at him to confirm it. He was pissed, royally. Riley had only broken about four of his unwritten rules today. She set the spoon down in the bowl and quickly stood up from the table. "I um… gotta go," she whispered to Crewman Lake. "Nice to meet you."

---

Captain Tucker clenched his jaw and tried to keep his emotions in check as he walked out of the mess hall. To the casual observer, he merely had called Riley out of the room. _At least I hoped that's what it looked like, _he thought as he cleared the doorway and continued down the hall. He knew Riley was following him … could feel her presence behind him and hear her boots hitting the deck plating. When he thought he was out of earshot of the mess hall he turned on his heel to confront her.

"Where are you supposed to be?" he hissed. He rested his hands on his hips and unconsciously downed his "father knows best" persona. Tucker watched Riley squirm and fidget nervously in front of him.

"In the science lab," she whispered barely audible.

"So how did you end up in the mess hall?"

Riley bit her lip before answering. "Well, Solon couldn't do my lesson today and Commander McCann has been a grouch and everyone else was busy so I thought…" her voice trailed off and she ducked her head. Her red hair fell across her face and covered her eyes.

"You thought what?" he asked towering over her. Trip reached out and pulled her chin up so she would be forced to look him in the eye.

"I thought I didn't have to go," she finally answered.

"Ugh huh," Trip grunted letting go of her chin. "And the little flirting act with Crewman Lake?"

"You saw that?" Riley mumbled.

"The whole mess hall saw it. Lieutenant Sauer even thought it was cute," Trip grumbled.

"Nothing happened! I swear. I was just eating ice cream," she stuttered defensively.

Trip folded his arms across his chest and gave her a look that could melt ice. "Riley you and I both know there is a big difference between consuming a food product because you are hungry and eating it seductively to evoke a certain response from somebody," he said sternly.

"That wasn't my intention," Riley said looking away from him again. "At least not in the beginning."

"Riley, Crewman Lake is too old for you. He's twenty one, you're barely fifteen…"

"I'll be sixteen in less than a year," she argued.

"It doesn't matter. Its …," Tucker started to lecture her and then stopped. _I'm starting to sound like my father, _he chided himself.

"I just wanted to have a friend that was closer to my age Captain," she said quietly. "Someone that I could relate too."

"Crewman Lake isn't that person," Tucker snapped. He took a slow breath and ran his hand over his mouth, trying very hard to control the paternal instinct in him. "You can be friends with him ... but nothing else. What was my rule about that?"

"I'm not to have sexual contact with any of the crew," Riley replied quietly. "But he's not part of Phoenix's crew," she protested.

"He's Starfleet and you aren't to be flirting with him," Trip said curtly. "Understood?" He watched her nod meekly and then put his hand on her shoulder, motioning for Riley to walk with him. "Come with me." He walked down the corridor to the science lab where she was supposed to be doing her homework. He paused outside the door and looked back at her. "There's someone here that I want you to meet."

Trip activated the door control and motioned for her to step inside. He followed her in and watched the emotions flood over Riley's face as she recognized her friend and started to cry.

"Ichara!" she exclaimed as she rushed toward the dark skinned woman. After hugging a minute she looked back to Tucker with a questioning expression.

"Ichara was in the compound with the Columbia crew. She was transported to the ship with the other detainees."

"Callee and Tikee are here too," Ichara informed Riley wrapping her hand around Riley's. "Why are you here? I thought the ship had come from far away."

"Captain Tucker rescued me months ago. He's taking me to be reunited with my brother," Riley explained wiping the tears from her face. "Thank you Captain," she whispered to him barely audible.

00-00

"Stu, hurry up!" Navalle yelled at him from the living area of the stateroom.

Rybaiski emerged from the latrine a second later and picked up his uniform parts that were strewn around the room. "This isn't mine," he said holding up a pair of her panties before stuffing them into his bag. "Did you even stay in your temporary quarters?" he asked as he shoved the final piece of clothing into his luggage and pulled the zipper shut.

"I went there to brush my teeth once," Navalle smiled coyly.

"Why do I get the impression that my days of living alone are over," Stu commented as he slung the bag strap over his shoulder.

"You could always move into my quarters," she remarked shrugging her shoulders and she picked up her bag.

"Oh yeah right, on deck six with the MACO's?" he chuckled. "Don't you have a roommate?"

"Corporal Kuhlie."

"That's okay … my quarters on deck three will do just fine. I don't have nosy neighbors," he said. He waved toward the door. "You're going to have to leave first and meet me at the end of the corridor."

"Why? The first officer saw me come in here last night," Navalle said mischievously as she stood in the open doorway.

"What? Oh great!" Stu grumbled following her out. "That's all I need on my record."

"Guess you should have thought about that before you screwed me," Navalle scolded him gently as she stepped through the hatch.

"Trust me, I did ... but then you sucked my dick down your throat and..." his voice trailed off as he walked into the corridor.

"And what?" the Andorian female asked looking over at him.

"And I umm... thought it was worth the court martial," he replied shugging his shoulders. He watched the sly grin cross her face and she caught his fingers with hers.

"There won't be a court-martial Romeo, I'm not Starfleet," she reminded him with a laugh.

"Somehow I don't think the Captain is going to go for that," Rybaiski chuckled as he pulled his fingers free and rested his hand in the small of her back.

00-00

"Kelly? Can you hear me?" Lieutenant Kyle Mahoney called to the ensign. He had just administered the stimulant medication to wake her and she was slowly coming out of her sleep. He and Ichara stood at next to her biobed, careful not to startle her as she awoke. "Kelly? It's me, Kyle. Lieutenant Mahoney. Can you hear me"

"Lieutenant?" Kelly muttered as she slowly opened her eyes. "Ichara?"

"It's us Kelly," Ichara confirmed.

"Hey you," Mahoney said warmly squeezing her hand. "How'd'ya feel?"

"I have a headache," Kelly said. "My whole body aches."

"Yeah, you got banged up pretty bad," Kyle replied keeping his voice at the same intonation level.

"You're in uniform," she stated trailing her gaze from Mahoney to Ichara.

"Kelly, we were rescued. All of us from the dorms, everyone including Captain Hernandez," Mahoney explained to her. "Do you understand?"

"Rescued?" Ensign Morgan questioned as apprehension started to build in her gut.

"Listen to me Kelly," Ichara cooed gently in her ear. "I won't lie to you. We're safe now."

Mahoney watched the fear build up in her eyes. "You survived Ensign. SERE school. Survive Evade, Resist, Escape," he commented trying anything he could think of to belay her fears.

"I failed because I let the guard…" her voice trailed off as the memory returned and she closed her eyes in pain.

"No Kelly you didn't fail. You picked which battles you were going to fight, that's part of evading death. Resist when the guards provoke you into a fight."

"You keep saying that," she smiled slowly.

"I'm going keep saying it until you believe it," Kyle chuckled. He slid his arm under her shoulder and for the first time in days she didn't resist. "Let's get you up and take you home."

"Home," Kelly repeated letting the word roll around on her tongue. "Yeah, I'm ready to go home."

00-00

Crewman Lake wandered down the corridor of deck three and headed for the turbolift. It had been a rough day to say the least. _I don't know what was worse, finding out that my vision might be jacked for the rest of my life, or that I have some alien STD that they don't exactly have a cure for or finding out that Callee is pregnant with my baby… babies, _he mused as he walked. He unconsciously rubbed his groin and cursed under his breath when he caught himself. _Stop it Lake, that will only make it worse, _he berated himself. _You want doc McCann smearing that nasty cream on your nads again?_ He grimaced at the memory even though he was sure the doctor got some perverse pleasure touching him down there. He turned the corner by the turbolift and ran right into the girl from the mess hall.

"Oops!" he muttered as he knocked the PADD she was carrying to the floor. "Sorry," he mumbled as he squatted down to retrieve it. "Riley isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah," Riley remarked backing up a step to get out of his way.

"So why didn't you tell me that he was your dad?" he asked fiddling with the PADD.

"What?" Riley asked quizzically. "Who?"

"The captain?" Brice answered with a knowing tone.

"Captain Tucker is not my father," Riley chuckled.

"Right," Brice replied slowly. "He sure acted like it, pulling you out of the mess hall like that and yelling at you in the hallway."

Riley bit her lip and smiled in amusement. "He wasn't yelling, trust me," she said. "I know what yelling is … he was scolding me."

"Uh huh, sounds like a dad to me," Lake said.

"He's not my …." Her voice trailed off and she exhaled loudly. "I'm his special project I guess."

Brice nodded his head slowly. "So, why are you on board again?" Something about her story didn't add up. Lake knew civilians occasional served on starships, but they were scientists or doctors, not teenagers.

"I told you I was a subject expert," Riley replied flatly.

"On what?" Lake questioned, not letting up.

"On stuff," she replied taking another step back from him.

"What kind of stuff?" he asked shrugging his shoulders. He could see she was getting nervous and decided to back off. "Never mind, you don't have to tell me, if you don't want too."

"Good, because it's classified," Riley blurted out. "I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you," she added with a grin.

"Riley."

Both Lake and Riley turned toward the female voice only to find T'Pol walking toward them from the opposite corridor. Riley twisted her lip to the side and rolled her eyes in disbelief that she had been busted by her guardians twice in one day.

"You are late for our meeting," T'Pol remarked curtly.

"Sorry, ma'm," Riley muttered quietly. "See you later," she muttered to Lake as she excused herself and headed down the corridor to her room.

"Crewman Lake," T'Pol addressed him sharply when she realized he was staring at Riley.

"I don't have meeting, ma'm," Lake stammered as T'Pol glared at him.

"That may be the case, however, Riley does and detaining her in the corridor is counterproductive to her responsibilities."

"We were just having a conversation Commander," Lake argued. "I didn't touch her."

"That is fortunate for you. Had her security detail observed such actions they would certainly ensure you never touched another female again," T'Pol remarked deadpan. She took Riley's PADD out of his hand, noticing his stunned expression. "As you were crewman."

00-00

The stillness was the first thing that assaulted him as he stretched in the chair. He scanned the small isolation suite outside of the main sickbay room. The lighting was dimmed in order to relax the patient. _And me, _he thought as he rolled his shoulders back. His eyes focused on the bed in front of him as his ears picked up the varied sounds, the beeping of a heart monitor, the raspy breathing of the patient, and the hiss of the oxygen tank. Twenty second century medicine still held its roots in some basic two hundred year old norms. _Oxygen, blood pressure, heart rate, _he mulled over in his head as he checked her vitals for the tenth time.

McCann stood up from the chair and walked around the bed, trying to work the kinks out. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there. He hadn't left her side since she was transported from Darlington earlier in the afternoon. He vaguely remembered Tucker telling him that T'Pol would take command of Columbia as they started their trek back to earth. _As if I was going back there, _he shook his head. _The old me would have, _he reminded himself as he looked back at the sleeping form.

A tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn't bother to stop it. "Tandy," Catch whispered under his breath as he thought about his helmsman from the Piper. "It's all your fault that I've become me." He chuckled at the thought and wondered what she would think of him sitting at Birdie's bedside tonight. Would she have thought he'd lost his mind as bouts of regret riddled his body and tears fell uncontrollably from his eyes? _Tandy would have known the truth, she knew the true me, challenged me to be the true me even when I didn't want to be that person, _he reminded himself. "You changed me for the better," he whispered. "I never had the chance to say thank you … so thank you," he added under his breath.

"Shane?"

"Yeah?" Catch looked over his shoulder toward the door when he heard his brother say his name. He felt his stomach twist into a knot and felt that sick sensation he knew so well. The same feeling that had flooded his senses when he held Ensign Tandy Gifford's dying body in his arms and on the day his uncle told him that his parents were dead. McCann turned on his heel and walked toward the door, glancing at Birdie as he passed.

"You need to get some rest," Zack said quietly. "Sleeping in that chair isn't the answer."

"I can't leave her," Shane said looking back into the room. "I should have…" his voice trailed off as another tear escape his lid.

"Should have what?" Zack asked with a confused expression on his face. "It was duty to go on the mission. I know you feel responsible for her injury in some way. Honestly I do too, but that's part of our life. It's why we chose to be soldiers and not work in some safe office building…"

"Zack save the propaganda speech for some ensign that needs it," Shane mumbled waving at his brother to shut up. He walked across the main sickbay room and found an empty bed to lean on.

"I got you a cup of coffee," Zack remarked pointing at the steaming cup on the counter.

"Oh," Shane grunted. He turned around and picked it up. "Thanks," he mumbled after taking a sip. "How's ah … everyone else?" he asked waving his hand around the room.

"Most are stable and will be released in a few days," Zack said simply.

"The captain?" McCann asked his younger brother over the top of the coffee cup.

"Critical."

"Burrows?"

"He'd be better off dead."

Shane chuckled at the morbid comment and arched his brow at his sibling. "So much for your _I'm going to save the world _stance."

"I can't do anything for him," Zack said shrugging his shoulders. "He was beaten severely at the prison. I can't even believe he survived this long. I'm a doctor not a miracle worker."

Shane rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. He would never admit it, but it felt good to be out of the isolation room. "Zack is she … Birdie, will she…?"

"Walk again?" Zack replied finishing his question. "Yes, she's going to walk again Shane. Fortunately, for Birdie, the right ship rescued her. Commander Unser cut his teeth on the front lines in the war. He's one of the best. He has the stump prepped for the prosthetic leg. We've got some work in front of us, but she should be able to transition into a new leg when she gets back to earth."

"Should be?" Shane asked setting the cup down.

"She's going to need your support," Dr. McCann replied frankly.

"She's had my support from the day I met her," the elder McCann snapped. "She's too hardheaded sometimes." He ran his hand through his short hair and rested his hands on his hips.

"It's what makes you a good couple…ironically enough," Zack replied leaning against the counter.

"Not good enough sometimes…we got into a fight before the mission about the baby. I didn't think she should go. In my head it was the only thing holding us together," his voice trailed off as the emotion riddled his face. "Then we lost the away teams transponder signals and ….we retreated … and after that the only thing that mattered to me was finding her. Because I couldn't lose her again." Shane wiped the tears from his face and slumped against the countered. "I should have told her that I loved her before she left."

"Love has never been the issue between you two," Zack replied quietly. "It's your egos that get in the way, both of you keep trying to be someone else."

Shane nodded silently and bit his lip. He walked back to the door leading to the isolation room. "The only guy I want to be anymore, is the guy laying next to her when she wakes up."

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Twenty-six hours out from Starbase One.

Squeaky sounds of rubber against deck plating echoed of the bulkheads. Grunts, cursing and laughter filled the air, which was thick with the sharp odor of sweat and blood. The uneven cadence of the ball bouncing forcefully against the floor seemed like the main event. The swoosh of the nylon net added that necessary touch like a background singer in a band.

"Haas!" Rybaiski's voice cut through the static as he overhanded the ball to the acting security head. He watched as man caught it one handed and drove the lane to the basket. What the Chief Engineering wasn't expecting was the tie-breaking drive to be stopped short as a red-haired pony tailed female blocked the shot and knocked the ball away to another teammate.

"Ha!" Riley screamed as she batted to ball toward Commander Sato. She came down hard on the side of her ankle and rolled out of Haas' way. The pain sliced through her body like a knife, but it didn't stop her for more than a second. She scrambled to her feet and hobbled half way down the court before droppeing to her knee. Her lack of participation didn't matter as Sato passed the ball to Montag who dropped the ball cleanly through the net. Blue team had won again.

"Need some help?" Rybaiski said to Riley as he walked dejectedly up the court. He squatted at her side and gingerly slid her shoe off her foot. "Can you move it?" he asked after running his hand over the ankle.

"Ow," Riley winced making a face. "No," she whined.

"It's not broken," Rybaiski said flatly.

"Since when are you a medic?" Riley growled at him.

"Since I was five years old and made my first basket," he informed her. "It doesn't take a doctor to diagnose a sprain." He sat back on his haunches and loosed the laces on her shoe. "Haas! I need a medic!"

"If it's all the same to you, I'll let Doc McCann make that decision," Riley grumbled. As the lieutenant jogged over to Riley's side and made a quick assessment of her ankle.

"It's sprained," Haas reported just a Rybaiski slipped her shoe back on.

"See, I told you," Stu replied standing up. "Come on, let's get you to sick bay," he added extending his hand to her so she could stand up.

"Can you put weight on it?" Haas asked her once she was standing upright.

"I ran half way up the court didn't I?"

"And collapsed to your knees," the lieutenant retorted.

Rybaiski watched Riley roll her eyes and attempt to stand on both feet. An ugly grimace crossed her face and she hopped back to one.

"Ouch."

"Hmm, guess that's my answer," Haas commented as he slid his arm around her waist. "I got this commander," he muttered looking over at Rybaiski. "Riley would be vertically challenged if you were to take her."

"I didn't see her being vertically challenged when she rejected you at the basket," Stu joked walking toward the bench to grab a towel.

"Don't hate coach," Riley said with an evil chuckle. She caught the towel that Rybaiski tossed to her. "Maybe you shouldn't have taught me so well." Riley pushed her wet hair off her neck and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Maybe I should have picked you for my team!" Rybaiski laughed. "Next time kid. Go easy on her Lieutenant," Stu added as he headed for the hatch.

"I promise not to throw her down the turbolift," Haas remarked with a sly grin on his face.

00-00

"Navalle! Has anyone ever told you you're a slob?" Rybaiski's voice echoed from the small latrine as he stepped over her pajamas and walked into the main area of his quarters. He ran a towel through his hair one final time before tossing it in the open hamper just inside the head.

"Besides my mother?" she questioned him from the wardrobe.

"Mother number one or mother number two?" he asked as he slumped against the doorway.

"Both," she smiled at him.

_Gawd she's beautiful, _he thought as he watched Navalle brush her hair. The woman had reigned in his _Romeo spirit_. Their relationship was as interesting and exciting today as it had been six weeks ago during their mission. Even living together hadn't changed anything, in fact it made their relationship better. For the first time in his adult life, Stu had a sense of security in a relationship. He didn't need to go check out the competition because he had all he ever wanted right in his bed. It wasn't about sex either. The sex was great! The mechanics of it was similar yet different, exciting and erotic all at the same time. However, there were many nights when they just cuddled around each other, which was another first for Stu. He had never felt comfortable just going to sleep next to a woman without having some action first. _I'm whipped, _he thought as he watched her get dressed. _Okay Trip, I finally get it … in love with an alien. _The thought startled him a bit.

"Um that reminds me, did you tell them that I was coming home with you?" Stu asked tentatively. Most of the senior staff had requested leave after Admiral Stewart's memorial service. Rybaiski was spending most of his time off with Navalle on Andoria and the prospect of it was scaring the shit out of him.

"Yes and yes, they're excited to meet you," Navalle replied anticipating his next question. She zipped up her jacket and fiddled with the placket.

"Even though I'm an alien?"

"They don't care about that," she replied as she twisted her neck to get the hook latched. "My sister didn't marry an Andorian."

"Wait! Do they think we're getting married?" Stu asked wide-eyed.

"Will you relax?" she growled with an annoyed tone. "Geezus we're not even there yet and you're freaking out. My parents are cool."

"As cool as the temperature?" Stu joked as he grabbed his boots and walked toward the bed.

"Ha ha … did you tell your family?" she mocked in his direction.

"What? Of course, we're staying at their house after the memorial service," he replied as he tried to shove his foot into the boot. "These aren't my boots," he mumbled staring at the small footwear.

"What time is your meeting?" she asked. She tossed his boots over to the bed.

Stu craned his head around to look at the chronometer on the wall above the bunk. It read zero nine forty. "Ten hundred hours. We need a bigger room," he muttered as he tossed her boots back to her.

"Is your mother is okay with me being an alien?" she asked him cautiously.

"Now who's paranoid? You talked to her on subspace the other day," Stu grunted as he leaned over to tie his shoe.

"She could have been faking it," Navalle replied shrugging her shoulders.

"At her desk at Starfleet Command with a Vulcan and Rigilian in the background?" Rybaiski said standing up.

"I'm just saying," Navalle started to reply when he shoved her up against the wardrobe and grazed his lips across her mouth to shut her up.

"I saying that I love you," he whispered when they came up for air. "That is all that needs to matter in my parent's house." He kissed her again and then stepped back and turned toward the door. "Now clean this mess up before I put you on report."

Stu left his quarters with a grin on his face. _I just told her that I loved her. And I meant it, _he pondered as he walked down the hall. _I've told women that before to get them to sleep with me … but this is different. Navalle is different. I just hope I don't freeze my ass off on Andoria. _The thought of him bundled up like a polar bear rolled through his head as he turned the corner by the mess hall and stepped in to get a cup of coffee and a donut. Stu scanned the room as the dispenser brewed the cup and noticed the Captain, Catch and Gervase sitting at a table in the corner. _What the hell are they talking about? _Rybaiski wondered as he picked up the cup. _Without me? _

He grabbed a donut from the case and headed over to the table. Whatever the three were discussing was wrapped up before the chief engineer was within earshot. Both Gervase and McCann greeted him with a nod as he approached and Tucker stood up from the table to meet him.

"Morning Stu."

"Captain," Rybaiski answered cautiously. "I miss something?"

"No," Trip said quickly. "Just preparations from Columbia's trip back to Earth."

"Oh," Stu grunted as he took a bite of the donut. He followed Tucker back to the front of the room and waited for him to refill his coffee cup. "Are we still having senior staff at ten?" Stu asked between chews.

"Yep," Tucker replied. "How was the game?"

"We got beat," Stu muttered.

"No way, you got beat by the girls?" Tucker laughed in his face.

"Don't rub it in pal. Nothing is more depressing that having your mentee block the tie-breaking shot," Rybaiski replied ruefully.

"Riley helped kick your ass?" Trip laughed. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have taught her so well." He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee.

"That's what she said," Stu remarked. "She twisted her ankle right at the end of the game. It's just a sprain."

"Ouch,"Trip replied. He motioned toward the corridor and the two headed toward the hall.

"So I heard some scuttlebutt this morning that you can confirm or deny," Stu prompted the captain. "Hernandez is being released from sickbay today? If you need a room for her, she can have my quarters."

Trip rolled his eyes and pushed the call button on the turbolift. "You ah ... planning to move to deck six with the MACOs?"

"I was thinking more like one of the empty rooms on deck two. Chief Roman told me there are four unassigned suites up there," Rybaiski said as they stepped in the car.

"Have you even thought about what you're going to say to Ensign Chambers when we arrive at the Starbase?" Trip questioned his friend.

"I'm not going to be talking to her," Rybaiski quipped.

"You don't feel that need to explain _anything _to her?"

"No," Rybaiski snarked and shrugged his shoulders. "She made all the decisions about our relationship weeks ago."

"Huh?"

"Dear John letter via email?" Rybaiski muttered. "She fell in love with one of the med techs at the base."

"Ouch," Tucker winced as he stuffed the PADD in his pocket. "No wonder she put in for a transfer."

"So about that room," Rybaiski said redirecting the conversation just as the lift doors opened.

"And you need a bigger room for what reason?" Trip asked his friend smugly as they stepped into the corridor.

"Don't be dumb Tucker," Rybaiski scowled. "It's not even funny. Navalle and I are serious."

"Oh brother," Trip grumbled shaking his head. "I've heard that before."

"No, this is different… and don't say it! I know you're going to say that you've heard that before too," Rybaiski said holding his hand up. "I'm going home with her on our leave."

"You're going to Andoria?' Trip coughed over his coffee. "It's freezing there."

"That's what my mom said," Stu said looking down the hall.

"Your mother knows about you and Navalle?" Trip questioned him.

"Yeah, we're staying with the folks when we get back to earth," Rybaiski replied matter-o-factly.

"Geezus," Trip replied in shock. "Have you ever taken a girl home before?"

"Hmm, maybe back in eighth grade," Stu mumbled. "So about the room?" he asked the captain again.

"No," Trip replied firmly. "Captain Hernandez is going back to her own quarters on Columbia." Trip stopped walking just outside the conference room.

"Starfleet is releasing her?" Stu guffawed.

"She's not a prisoner Stu," Trip replied. "It's not like she going to jump out an airlock."

"Aren't charges going to be filed for whatever she's done?" Stu asked with an incredulous expression on his face.

"I don't know Stu. I'm just the captain that was assigned to rescue her," he said plainly. "Birdie and the rest of the injured crew will be transferred to Columbia's sickbay tomorrow morning and then Catch and Gervase will be commanding the ship on the return trip to earth," Trip replied keeping it short and to the point.

"And then she goes to court-martial?"

"That's privileged information Commander," the captain said sharply.

Stu was taken aback by the formality of his answer. _Yeow! _he thought as he heard the sizzle in the air. _Now I know what those three were talking about, _he reasoned to himself. "Yes sir," he replied as he followed the captain into the conference room.

00-00

Ensign Kelly Morgan walked into sickbay on Phoenix and scanned the room as she had so many times the past few weeks. The room was nearly devoid of patients, a far cry from the state just after their rescue. Only Captain Hernandez, Colonel Lynch and Lieutenant Burrows remained in the room. Kelly made her way to the side of Trey's bed and settled down in a chair. She stared sightlessly at his unconscious form and reflected on the past few months. _Another chapter of my life is about to begin, _she mused as she took a mental inventory.

Lieutenant Montag transferred Ensign Morgan to Phoenix as part of her therapy three weeks ago. Kelly fought the transfer at first and was embarrassed that both ships had to come to a complete stop in space to accommodate her mental issues. Yet as much as she was skeptical and suspicious about the motive, she quickly realized being among a crew that hadn't been tortured and brutalized as Columbia had was refreshing. Feeling normal on Phoenix was easy because everyone was living it and most weren't asking her about "it" all the time. Within weeks, Commander McCann released her to duty and assigned her to a science lab. She used her nursing background to learn a new skill and for once didn't feel the walls of sickbay closing in on her. The prospect of not having to care for anyone besides herself was refreshing and she relished her new assignment, her new life and her new friends.

Most days it was easy to forget what had happened to her. The reminders were far removed from Phoenix and its clean and tidy world, until she made the trek to sick bay or shared a meal with Ichara, Callee or Crewman Lake. Then Kelly faced with the challenge of balancing the demons in her head with the reality that she lived. Her memory only zeroed in on specific scenarios from her time in captivity and inflated the impact. Sometimes what happened in the prison blended with all the ugly memories of her past and she felt like she was suffocating. There were many nights, she awoke in a cold sweat stuck in some never-ending nightmare.

Before her transfer to Phoenix, the nightmares had forced her from the security of her quarters. On more than one occasion, she let her imagination get the best of her and ran from the demons in her dreams into the corridor of the Columbia. She shuddered as the images flooded her mind. She had difficulty believing she was _that _person … that person so caught up the delusions that she wouldn't listen to reason, that she had to be being tracked down by security and pinned on the floor until a sedative was administered. Since transferring to Phoenix, it had only happened once. Once in three weeks as opposed to multiple times a week, was progress in everyone's eyes, especially Kelly's.

Kelly stood from the chair and stepped closer to the biobed that held Lieutenant Trey Burrows. She ran a finger down the side of his face and prayed that somehow, someway he knew she was there reaching out to him. What was lying on that biobed was but a shadow of who he was, the man that she loved and hated all in the same breath. While on Columbia, he gave her hope that things would improve, that they would be together as husband and wife when they made it back to earth. Those dreams were nothing but a memory now, swept away by the tide.

It was time to let go. Tomorrow Trey would be transferred to Columbia and make the trek to Earth without her. His family had requested he be removed from life support weeks ago and signed the DNR order in his file. Kelly didn't need anyone to tell her he wasn't going to wake up. The man she knew and fell in love with had died long ago, maybe even before their capture.

"Goodbye Trey." Kelly whispered as she leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. She turned and sat down in the chair, grabbing a tissue from the stand next to the bed.

"Ensign?"

Kelly looked toward the voice at the curtain and smiled. "Captain, I didn't mean to wake you," she said.

"I was already awake," Captain Hernandez replied shuffling toward the bed. "In for your nightly visit?"

"Just saying goodbye ma'm," Kelly said gesturing toward the biobed. "Trey is being transferred to Columbia tomorrow for the trip back to Earth."

"And you're not, I hear," Hernandez remarked tilting her head. "I was surprised."

"I can't … I can't go back there ma'm, respectfully," the ensign answered. "I've requested a permanent assignment on Phoenix as a science officer," she added quickly. "The Captain said he would put in a good word for me…after my psych evaluation." Kelly shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "If it doesn't happen, then I guess it wasn't supposed to be."

"Don't lose the faith ensign," Hernandez said. "I've seen you make some pretty amazing things happen."

"What about you ma'm? When you go back to Earth?" Kelly asked looking up at the woman with hopeful eyes.

"I will have to accept accountability for my actions," Hernandez said flatly.

"A court-martial?"

"Yes."

"Are you nervous?" Ensign Morgan questioned the captain. The boldness of her question startled her slightly. Months ago, she would have never dreamed that she would be having such a casual conversation with the captain of her ship, especially over such a delicate matter. However, since spending time in captivity with her and employing all her skills to save the woman's life, Kelly felt it put them on a different playing field.

"I am, but I got myself in this mess, so I need to face the consequences," the captain replied confidently.

"More prison time," Kelly replied ruefully. "Too bad they can't give you credit for time served."

Hernandez chuckled at the comment. "I don't think Starfleet is going to go for that Ensign," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure the accommodations at Leavenworth are nicer than the Anoree compound," Kelly said standing up from the chair. "At the very least the food has to be better." She held the captain's gaze for a moment and then both women broke out into quiet laughter.

00-00

Captain Tucker sighed heavily and walked into the mess hall. He went right for the pie counter and then stared at the selection. _Key lime or pecan? Choices, choices, choices, _he mulled over in his head. _I wish that was the hardest decision I had to make today,_ he thought as he opted for the pecan pie and a large glass of milk. He headed for a table by the window and settled down into the hypnotic lure of the starfield streaming by.

A lot had happened today and there was no relief in sight for a while. The preparations for Columbia's return flight were complete. Tomorrow he would escort Captain Hernandez to her hearing and testify as a witness to the prosecution, attend a teleconference with the captain's of the fleet and have his quarterly review with Admiral Ford in which he would make his final decision regarding the first officer position.

Tucker ran his hand over his face and shoved a forkful of pie into his mouth. He let the sugary filling melt on his tongue and sweep away his stress in one swift brush. Trip regretted being short with Rybaiski earlier, but the information he was fishing for wasn't fodder for the corridor. Rybaiski should have known better to go there in the first place, but then again tactfulness had never been Stu's strong suit. Trip chuckled at the irony of it, remembering Captain Archer making a similar observation about him many years ago. _You'll do just fine as the XO my friend, _Trip thought taking a swallow of milk.

_Th'y'la _

_Yes, _Trip replied as he wiped his milk mustache from his lip.

_Riley is headed your way. She is distressed. _

_About what? _he asked sticking a forkful of pie into his mouth savoring its flavor.

_Her departure tomorrow, _T'Pol projected to him.

_She's not leaving tomo…agh… why does she keep thinking that? _Trip growled unconsciously. _Does she think we're just going to drop her off like a puppy? _

_I believe members of the crew are feeding her anxiety. I tried to calm her with a meditation session… however it was unsuccessful, _T'Pol informed him.

"Mind if I join you?" Riley's familiar voice asked as she slid into the seat across from him.

"Ice cream?" Trip muttered nodding at the bowl of pink in front of her. "Strawberry?"

"My favorite," she whispered not making eye contact with him.

"How your ankle?"

"It's sore," Riley replied. "David wrapped it. He showed me how to do it so when I… I can do it myself."

Trip watched her blink the tears out of her eyes and look anywhere but at him. "Something you want to talk about?" he nudged her.

"Can we just skip the Starbase and go right to Earth?" she whispered barely audible.

"We have to stop at the Starbase for official Starfleet business," Trip replied. He stuck another forkful of pie in his mouth and chewed it in silence before saying anything else.

"And what if I don't want to get off the ship?" she asked finally looking in his direction.

"Riley, you're freaking yourself out over nothing," he reminded her. "Tomorrow you are going to meet your brother. Just have lunch, that's all. You're not leaving the ship. There's a lot of paperwork that needs to be done and until we get back to Earth, Phoenix is still your home."

"Wh... what if my brother doesn't want me?" she asked as her face began to relax. "What will happen to me then?" she scraped her spoon across the scoop of ice cream and then set the spoon down in the bowl.

Trip ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek and tilted his head to the side. "I don't think that's going to happen darlin," he reassured her.

"What if it did?" Riley asked. "I haven't heard from him since my last letter two weeks ago. What if he read my letter and decided he didn't want to see me?" She played with the edge of the bowl and the spoon.

"Riley, you're overreacting," Trip said calmly. "It takes awhile to get mail in space. I highly doubt if anything you said made him not what to be a part of your life. He replied to your first letter didn't he? And I seem to remember you being very frank about your life up until we rescued you, right?"

"I guess," she replied playing with the end of her ponytail. "Just what if? What would happen to me if I couldn't go with him?"

"You're always going to have a family," Trip said frankly. "You'll always have me, T'Pol, Stu, Lieutenant Haas, Hoshi …"

"But Starfleet won't let me stay on the ship," she argued.

Tucker contemplated her words before he gave her an answer. "You'll always have a family Riley, I promised. Ship or no ship."

00-00

Lieutenant Commander Shane McCann walked down the corridor on deck four and over-rode the security lockup on room four oh nine. He stepped through the hatch and around the overstuff duffle bag in the doorway. "Ready to go?" he asked to the three occupants.

"Just about Commander," Corporal Kuhlie replied as she walked out of the head. She dumped the last of the toiletries into a dob kit. "That's the last of it Colonel." The tall Andorian female zipped the kit shut and shoved it into another duffle bag. Sergeant Montag made a final search of the desk drawers and footlocker in search of personal items.

"Thanks Kuhlie," Colonel Lynch replied from where she was sitting on the bunk. "Melanie."

"I'll shuttle these to Columbia for you ma'm," Montag remarked grabbing one of the duffle bags and slinging it over her shoulder.

"See Chief Alvarez for her room assignment Sergeant," Catch said scooting out of the way as the two MACO's hefted the bags out of the room. "He'll meet you at the airlock."

"Aye sir," Kuhlie replied as the door slid shut.

"How about you?" he asked walking over to the empty desk. He leaned against the frame and rested his arms on the desktop. "You got everything? I packed all your stuff that was in my room. I had Alvarez assign you the room across from mine," he said looking around the space. "I didn't think it was a good idea to be hot bunking it on the way home."

"I guess," she whispered. She looked away from him with tear-filled eyes. "You don't have to do this you know."

"Sleep in separate rooms?" he smiled back at her. "I don't think the captain would approve…."

"No Shane, I meant go back to earth with me. Don't give up your dreams on my account," she said looking back at him.

"Well, contrary to popular belief, I'm not doing this because of you," he remarked pushing off the desk. "I was ordered by Admiral Gardner to take Columbia back to Earth."

Birdie tilted her head in thought. "Would that be the same Admiral Gardner that swore you would never have a command of your own again?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Shane smirked. He walked over to the bunk and sat down next to her. "Technically Gervase is in command so I guess he figures I can't get into too much trouble in a week. Or maybe he knows you'd never let me get away with it."

"Oh, right, like I can control you with one leg?" she laughed looking over at him.

Shane watched her smile for the first time in days. "Even with only one leg, you still outrank me …You could always run me over with the wheel chair," he countered running his fingers through her hair.

"Hmmp, I'll take that under advisement," she said snuggling against his chest. "Did you say goodbye to your Starbase girl?" she whispered into his chest.

"Umm, yeah, I jumped in the sack with her for one last quickie," he replied flatly. He watched Birdie pull her head back at glare at him. "I'm kidding. She has a new flavor of the month. She probably picked him up the minute I hit the jetway."

Birdie twisted her lips to the side. "Isn't that what you did with me?"

"Well, sort of, but really I was just coming home," he replied brushing his fingers over her cheek. He leaned closer and drew her into a deep kiss.

"I always wanted to be able to tell our kids that I served in space," Birdie mumbled when they came up for air.

"Our kids?" he repeated cueing in on the slip.

"Yeah, our kids," she whispered. "Zack said we could try again … if we wanted," she said looking up at him.

"If I wanted?" Catch questioned cupping her face in his hands. "I wanted to start trying again the minute I knew you were going to be okay." He leaned into kiss her again only to find her palm on his chest pushing him away.

"What about you wanting to command a ship?" she asked. Her blue eyes sparkled in the light.

"Command is over-rated," he replied flatly. "Too much paperwork, not enough time to goof off."

"Shane!'

"Birdie, I'm serious. You go play soldier if you want too…in fact, Zack has a really cute recruitment speech you can listen too," he teased her. "I'm just going to stay home and change diapers."

"Ugh," Birdie growled making a face at the crap coming out of his mouth. "You'll be changing diapers all right," she muttered just as his communicator chirped.

"Columbia to Commander McCann."

Shane pulled his communicator out of his pocket and flipped it open. "McCann here."

"Sir, we're ready to shove off," Chief Alvarez reported. "Are you planning on joining us any time soon or should I send a cab for you and the colonel?"

Catch sighed heavily and stood up from the bunk. "I see that Vulcan humor has worn off on you chief," he replied into the link. "Colonel Lynch and I are on our way." He snapped the device shut and leaned over to pick her up. "And you thought I couldn't get into any trouble in a week?"

00-00

Captain Tucker rubbed his hand across his brow as he headed down the jet way to the airlock. It was seventeen thirty hours and he was ready to hit the rack. Hernandez's preliminary hearing had lasted four hours, which made him late to the teleconference, and then his conversation with Admiral Ford had lasted about an hour too long. _I need a hot shower and some sex, _he thought as he stepped through the airlock.

"Captain on deck!"

The announcement started him and jarred his aching senses. The voice belonged to non-other than his new Executive Officer, Commander Stu Rybaiski. "As you were," Tucker responded to the security contingent at the gate. "Don't make me rethink your new assignment commander," he sneered at Rybaiski as he started down the hall.

"Sorry Captain," Stu said forcing back a chuckle. "I couldn't resist. I know how much you like that," he replied like a smart aleck.

"Status report," Trip replied curtly. He could feel a headache coming on and the prospect of a hot unrestricted shower was starting to sound better and better.

"Columbia departed two hours ago without incident. Our guests have all transitioned to quarters on the Starbase and are settling in and engineering has completed repairs on the weapons array," Stu rattled off quickly. "There's just one problem we need to discuss," he added slowly.

The comment stopped Trip in his tracks. He could tell by Rybaiski's tone and the expression on his face that it was something serious. "What is it?" Trip asked.

"Riley's brother was a no show," he said reluctantly.

"What?" Tucker blurted out. "Wha…what happened? There are two freighters docked on the lower pylon," he muttered trying to make sense of it.

"Neither of which are the Santa Fe," Rybaiski informed him.

"I thought he was supposed to transfer ships to the Horizon," Tucker mumbled pacing down the hallway.

"He never made the rendezvous," Stu replied quietly. "After T'Pol and Riley waited over two hours in the arboretum, I had a chat with Paul Mayweather on the Horizon."

Trip felt his stomach twist into a knot and he looked back at the Chief Engineer. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this?" he asked inclining his head for Rybaiski to follow him out of traffic to a quieter alcove.

"After the Santa Fe missed their meeting with Horizon and failed to arrived here on their own, Mayweather contacted the Freighter Authority for assistance. Starfleet dispatched the Apollo on a search and rescue mission," Rybaiski said flatly. He fished a PADD out of his pocket and handed it to the captain.

"And?" Tucker prompted wanting the cliff notes version.

"We received that communication from Apollo two hours ago. They found the Santa Fe adrift about ten light years from here. All hands aboard were dead."

"Attacked?" Trip asked as he scanned the report.

"Negative, forensics tests indicate the engines and electrical systems had a catastrophic failure. It blew a hole in the bulkhead and decompressed the ship before emergency backup systems could kick in," Stu replied ruefully.

"Shit," Tucker hissed tossing the PADD on the nearest counter. He rested his hands on his hips and glared at his chief engineer. "Does Riley know?" The news wasn't good and complicated everything. He had a flashback to his conversation last night with Riley about this very thing.

"I told her myself," Stu replied. "She's upset, obviously."

"Geezus, that kid can't catch a break," Trip mumbled remorsefully.

"Yeah she can," Rybaiski replied. "She caught her break when we rescued her. Everyday she's with us is an improvement from where she came from," he said flatly.

"Yeah, that doesn't get her the mythical family she keeps dreaming about," Trip scowled as he headed for the door.

"Lieutenant Montag has been working on an alternate plan for her," Rybaiski offered trying to turn a positive from this dire situation.

"I'm not dropping her off with a foster family at some orphanage on earth," Trip muttered as he walked over to pick up the PADD. "She needs to be with people she trusts, people she has some connection too."

"I think T'Pol has some thoughts on that," Stu said quietly. "Maybe you should talk to her about it."

"Why do I get the impression that I'm not going to like that either?" Trip mumbled as he walked toward the door.

"Well, knowing your stubborn streak, you probably won't," Stu replied following Tucker of out the room. "But it's worth consideration."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Trip asked Rybaiski as he turned to head toward the turbolift.

"No Captain," Stu replied flatly. "It's a cue to remain open-minded."

00-00

"Are you serious?" Trip questioned T'Pol as he paced around their quarters. T'Pol had just laid out her plan to secure Riley a proper home on Earth, which revolved solely around them. Rybaiski was right; he didn't like it … at all. He and T'Pol had just skipped through all Starfleet's hoops to finally be assigned to the same ship and live together like a normal husband and wife, and now she wanted to split up? "In case you forgot, you and I live and work on a Starship. In space! Starfleet isn't going to let her stay onboard indefinitely. She's a teenager and needs to be around kids her own age, not adults that want to play kid!" Trip snapped at his mate.

"I am fully aware of Starfleet's ship board policy," T'Pol replied curtly. "I wasn't suggesting that she remain onboard."

"Then how is that going to work exactly?"

"I will request a transfer to Starfleet Command to care for her," T'Pol said flatly.

"You're going to care for her? Alone? While I'm what? Still on the ship?" He rambled as he stormed around their bed. "You do realize that she's not disciplined like a Vulcan child?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Vulcan children are not disciplined as Vulcan adults," T'Pol informed him. She crossed her arms at her chest defiantly. "Riley and I will be fine."

"Agh!" Trip threw up him arms in frustration. "This isn't the sort of family life I envisioned for her!"

"It is the family that she has wanted for months, however," T'Pol said flatly. "She already thinks of us as her guardians. This would merely formalize the arrangement."

Trip ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek. "If you and Riley are on earth and I'm on the ship. I'm not going to be around to break up your little arguments. Have you thought of that?"

"Lieutenant Montag and Doctor McCann both agree my interaction with Riley is similar to a traditional mother daughter relationship," T'Pol commented.

"Which would still require a mediator!" Trip retorted. "Lizzie used to fight with my mom something terrible and my father always had to break it up."

"You are welcomed to do so if you feel the need," T'Pol replied coolly. "Families have been separated by military service for centuries on both our planets."

"Why do I get the impression that this is a done deal?" Trip asked as he faced off against her. Only the coffee table separated them. "Shouldn't I get a say in this?"

"You can certainly have a say in the matter, however considering your fondness for Riley I thought you would embrace the notion," she replied.

Trip shook a finger at her and stalked around the living area of their quarters. "That isn't fair T'Pol. You're leveraging Riley between us," he grumbled. "I have waited years and jumped through all of Starfleet's hoops just to live with you as a normal married couple!" His face flushed with anger and he was about to continue his argue just as the door chime buzzed. He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Come in," he said dejectedly.

The door slid open and Riley stepped through. The red circles around her eyes were the first thing Tucker noticed, her tear streaked face the second. The tentativeness of her actions the third.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked warily.

"No, come in," he said shooting T'Pol a look over Riley's head. _You did this knowing that I wouldn't say no, _he said to her through their bond. _Do we need to fill out an application or something? _Trip watched Riley walk to the couch and sit down. It was obvious she was scared. Her demeanor reminded him of that frightened girl they plucked out of the escape pod.

_Our application has already been submitted, _T'Pol informed him. She moved to sit at Riley's side and ran her hand comfortingly across her arm.

"I told you that something was wrong," Riley mumbled. She wiped the tears from her face and sniffled into the sleeve of her shirt. "I knew when he didn't answer my letter."

"I'm sorry Riley," Trip said helplessly. He barely knew what to say to her to make any of this better. _What do you mean our application is already submitted? _Trip demanded from T'Pol. _How could you do that without my signature? _He cupped his hand to his mouth and walked around the chair to sit across from Riley as T'Pol explained herself in his head.

_Commander Rybaiski obtained your signature on the application two weeks ago, _she said flatly.

_Without telling me? _Trip rattled off. _Wouldn't that fall under abused of executive power? _Tucker leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. "It's going to be okay Riley, I promised you that last night and I meant it," he said glaring at T'Pol.

_Perhaps you should read what you are signing before doing so, _she remarked crisply.

"How is it going to be okay?" Riley questioned him. "Crewman Lake told me that he grew up in a shelter on earth because no one wanted him and that people used to beat him up all the time and try to do … stuff to him," she argued her voice getting louder as she spoke, her breathing more labored. "It would be no different that being a slave."

Both Trip and T'Pol recognized her panic attack immediately and dropped their bickering to concentrate on Riley. _Leave it to Lake to try to freak her out, _Trip mumbled as he jumped out of the chair and stepped over to Riley's side.

"Relax Riley," he said calmly … or at least attempted too. _Lake's no different than the playground bully … he lulls you into a false sense of security and then stabs you in the back, _he grumbled to T'Pol as he rubbed Riley's back protectively.

T'Pol only nodded. She took Riley's hand and pressed on a pressure point in her palm. "Listen to the sound of my voice and breathe slowly," she instructed in her warm Vulcan manner.

"Riley none of that is going to happen to you," Trip said. "T'Pol … and I have umm… made an application to become your guardians," he said slowly. _Okay, you got me, _he muttered under his breath. '_Cept I'm not really keen on how this is all going to work out. _

"What do you mean my guardians?" Riley asked twisting her head from T'Pol to Trip.

"A guardian is a legally appointed caretaker," T'Pol remarked formally.

"Like a parent," Trip said walking back to the chair and sitting down.

"You're going to be my parents?" she muttered with a surprised look on her face. She pushed her red hair out of her eyes. "I told Lieutenant Montag that I wished for that … but how… Starfleet won't…I don't understand?"

"Well, we don't have all the details worked out just yet," Trip started to explain when T'Pol interrupted him.

"I will request a transfer to Earth. You and I will live in our apartment in San Francisco," T'Pol said. _It's the best way Th'y'la, _she said to Trip when he glared at her again.

"Are you guys talking to each other in your heads again?" she asked when she caught the exchange between them.

"Yes."

"No."

_No sense lying to her about it,_ Trip grumbled silently to T'Pol. _She's our kid now. _"Yeah, we were," he said aloud. "We do that sometimes because … you know what? I don't know why we do it actually," he conceded leaning back into the chair.

"If I hang around you two long enough, will I be able to do that?" Riley asked quizzically. "Get into your heads?"

"Perhaps."

"Ugh, that's a scary thought," Trip muttered as he looked at the two of them sitting on the couch. _Why do I get the feeling that my entire life is about to change? Drastically?_

00-00

Lieutenant Kyle Mahoney weaved through the tables of the mess hall in search of an empty seat when he spotted someone familiar. "Ensign Morgan."

Kelly turned her head as a puzzled smile crawled across her face. "Kyle?" she muttered when she spotted him. "I mean … Lieutenant Mahoney?" she cleared her stuff from the table to make room for him to sit down. "What are you… why aren't you on Columbia?"

"I transferred to Phoenix," he said sliding into the chair and setting his tray down. "I moved my stuff over this morning."

"Dare I ask why?" she blurted out, immediately regretting it. "Sorry, that was out of line."

"No big deal," he replied shrugging his shoulders. "I'm helping Commander McCann research the _virus _we're all infected with," he said frankly as he stuck a forkful of his dinner in his mouth. "I was surprised that you didn't transfer back to Columbia," he added with a shrug. "I heard you signed on for more time."

"You can't be afraid of the wind," she said. "At least that's what Captain Hernandez told me before she left for her hearing," Kelly replied quietly. "If she can face her court-martial with her head held high, I can face life the same way. I'm done running or trying to find a way out. I'd probably be bored on Earth anyway."

"It helps to be on a brand new ship huh," Kyle commented as he gazed around the room. "Kinda rejuvenates you."

Kelly smiled and nodded without a word. She picked up her fork and moved the food around on her plate. "I got an email from home the other day," she said with a chuckle. "Professor Ajoy. He said was giving me an honorary pass for his Advanced Survival class."

"Professor Ajoy needs to give us all A's," Mahoney agreed. "Except Crewman Lake, he doesn't deserve an A." Mahoney inclined his head to the right to indicate Lake's approach.

"Hey! I heard that," Lake yelped as he slid into an open chair. "Nice Phoenix insignias on your uni's." He pointed at the arm patches and swiped a carrot off Kelly's tray.

"Look who's talking Mr. Starbase One," Kelly joked swatting him right on the arm patch. "Or should I say Daddy?"

"Ouch! Crewman Lake is fine out of your mouth," he said with a grimace. "Callee and I haven't quite got that all figured out yet."

"Aren't the twins due in a month or so?" Mahoney asked his friend.

"Yeah."

"Well, you better have it figured out soon before you spend your entire paycheck buying diapers and formula," Kelly reminded him.

"I'm not the one that's freaking at the present moment, it's Callee that's having second thoughts about being a parent," Brice said defensively. "Ichara and Riley just think that she's scared."

"Riley?" Kyle questioned not recognizing the name.

"She's a friend of Ichara and Callee's," Kelly explained. "In a former life they umm worked together."

"Was she on the surface?"

"No, Phoenix rescued her months ago, before they knew we were missing," Brice explained. "She lives on the ship."

"The captain is her temporary guardian and Brice has been warned to stay away from her," Kelly replied smugly.

"Hmmp," Kyle grunted. "Guess your devious tendencies aren't so transparent."

As the table erupted into laughter, Kelly sat back and took it in. She hadn't felt this comfortable in months, not at the prison or on Columbia before they were captured. Laughter was a commodity that was in high supply on Phoenix. _Just like at home, _Kelly reminded herself quietly.

_Just like at home. _

TBC


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Last chance to leave a review. Thanks to all my readers!

Chapter 33

**Two months later**.

The sound of a chair scraping across the weathered wooden floor provided background beat to the concert that was echoing around it. The cadence of the dishes clinking together and the murmur of the table voices mixed with mellow shouts from the kitchen to create an oddly balanced tune. Its hypnotic lure teased at him. The sticky sweet aroma taunted his nostalgic memories of his mother's kitchen and Sunday morning breakfasts.

"Trip? Did I interrupt something?"

Captain Tucker blinked and refocused his eyes on the man sitting across the table. "Sorry Jon," he mumbled as he shifted his weight in his seat. Archer had been rambling on about life at Command for the past ten minutes and Tucker had conveniently just tuned him out. "Just thinking about a simpler time."

"A time before you were the legal guardian to a teenager and the Captain of the flagship of the fleet?" Jonathan Archer asked with a tilt of his head.

"Somethin like that, although I'd hardly call Phoenix the flagship," Trip shrugged sheepishly. "Life sure does throw some curveballs doesn't it?" He played with the top of his water glass. "Five years ago, if you would have told me my next kid would be a fifteen year old that I liberated from an alien royal pain in the ass mass murderer I would have thought you were nuts."

"And yet it happened," Jon said with a half grin. "I can see why you and T'Pol felt compelled to take her in. She's hard not to love."

"Yeah, she gets under your skin," Trip agreed nodding his head. "It amazes me how many fights T'Pol and I can get into now over nothing." He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip.

"Let me guess, T'Pol's the disciplinarian?" the Admiral commented.

"Actually not," Trip replied setting the cup down. "I'm more strict if you can believe it. My brother told me last weekend that I was acting just like my dad." He picked up his fork and stabbed at his pancakes.

"Ouch!" Jon grimaced as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. Before he could respond, the communicator lying on the table chirped.

"I should have shut that off," Trip scowled as he flipped the device open. "Tucker," he said into the microphone.

"Supplies are loaded sir," Rybaiski's voice informed him.

"I'll be up in a bit," Trip replied. He flipped the communicator off and stuffed it in his pocket. "That's covert Rybaiski speak for get your ass up here."

"Speaking of Rybaiski, how did he take it when Gervase was promoted to First Officer?" Archer questioned.

"I think he was disappointed for about two seconds and then he got over it," Trip replied. "After Catch removed himself from consideration, Gervase was just the better candidate. Stu's great in his department and as the hit man, but long term doesn't have the focus to run the whole ship."

"Sounds like someone I used to know," Archer reminded him. "Give him time, he'll come around, just like you did."

"I had a good teacher," Trip replied pouring another cup of coffee.

"The memorial service was nice," Archer remarked playing with his coffee cup.

"Yeah, right up to the point when the Admiral's torpedo got stuck in the shoot," Trip chuckled. "You know half the crew thinks the ship is haunted with his spirit."

"Let me guess, his ghost jammed the pipe on purpose?" Jon questioned.

"Like it was a test to see if they could problem solve on the fly," Tucker mumbled.

"Well, they must have passed, the launch was only delayed a few minutes," Jon remarked.

"Hmmph," Tucker grunted with a smirk.

Archer stared at his friend and tilted his head. "Trip …. What aren't you telling me?"

Tucker looked around the restaurant and leaned into the table. "The Admiral's in the deep freeze in sickbay," he whispered gruffly. "We shot an empty casing into space for the ceremony." He looked up at Jon with huge smile on his face. "It took over two hours to clear the pipe! " Tucker chuckled and sat back in his chair. "He told me years ago he wanted a deep space burial...so now he's going to get it," Trip said shrugging his shoulders.

"Without his family's blessing?" Jon asked with raised eyebrows.

"They know," Trip muttered. "Zack is convinced that is why the whole thing jammed in the first place. Like the Admiral was sending us a message from the grave. He probably has a big ole grin on his face over it right now." He looked down at his watch again.

Archer chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Where you going drop him?"

"Well, I was thinking somewhere out by the Starbase, but Catch and Jeremy, the Admiral's son, reminded me that Stewart was a huge civil war and ole west buff. So we're going to complete the ceremony at North Star," Trip replied pushing his plate to the side.

"North Star?" Archer questioned. "Isn't that kinda out of the way?"

"Nah, Admiral Ford conveniently added the yearly supply run to North Star to our mission," Trip replied with a grin.

"Just happened to add it huh?" Archer commented with a raised brow. "Why do I smell a conspiracy?"

"Ah, I think you're jealous," Trip replied with a shit-eatin grin. "Any words of endearment you want to send Bethany's way? Maybe she's still single … I could bring her home for you."

"That's okay Captain," Jon shook his head and held up with his hand. "I do just fine in the relationship department on my own without your intervention."

"I heard she asked about you the last time one of our ships was out there," Trip teased the elder officer.

"Yeah, ah … you can just tell her I retired..got married," Archer mumbled. He took a sip of coffee and looked at his watch. "What time are you departing?"

"Zero nine hundred."

Archer looked at watch and noticed that Trip had just a couple of minutes to spare. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you were squeezing in breakfast," Jon remarked as he set his coffee cup down.

"Yeah, on that note, I need to go," Trip sighed heavily. "We'll be back in a couple of months. Take care of my girls Jon," he said pushing his chair back and stood up from the table. "I'm sure you'll need to mediate some mother-daughter disputes. Riley likes to forget that she's only fifteen."

"You got it Trip. It'll remind me of commanding a ship." Admiral Archer said. He extended his hand to his friend and then pulled the man into a hug. "Be safe," he whispered into Trip's ear. "You have a lot more to come home too now."

"You got that right," Trip said as he turned on his heel and walked to the door. "Same time, say six months from now? I'll buy."

00-00

"Captain on deck!" CDR Rybaiski hollered out as Trip stepped off the transporter pad. Trip rolled his eyes in annoyance at his executive officer.

"As you were," Trip said to the MACO detail standing near the pad. "You do that again and I'll bust you down to quartermaster, Commander," Trip grumbled under his breath as the two men headed down the corridor.

"Quartermaster huh?" Stu laughed. "That might be an improvement over my current job as hall cop," Stu replied. He handed the Captain a PADD with the latest status report. "What took you so long?"

"Agh, I got stuck in a traffic with some ole geezer cab driver," Tucker grumbled scanning the PADD as he walked. "Guy was talking to himself, waving his arms around rambling on about the traffic and the _morons _on the street. I bolted as soon as he settled on the ground. Ensign Morgan opted to stay on board?" he questioned looking over at Rybaiski.

"You mean Lieutenant Morgan?" Rybaiski corrected him, reflecting Kelly Morgan's recent promotion. "I talked to her myself. She said the ship is her home and she's ready to go. McCann signed off on it."

"Okay then," Tucker replied. "Alvarez and Miner jumped ship too huh?"

"Hoshi assigned Miner to replaced Ensign Braidi at the comm," Rybaiski commented. "Gervase wants to assign the chief to some bridge shifts."

"Probably a good idea for the up and coming chief engineer," Trip agreed.

"You trying to get rid of Dempsey and me already?"

"At some point the two of you'll need to move on to greener pastures," Trip said stopping at the turbolift.

Rybaiski followed him in the car once the door opened. "Hey ah, I wanted to talk to you about my room."

"Do I look like the quartermaster?" Tucker said with a sigh. "That's Chief Roman's department."

"He said I needed to talk to you," Stu replied.

"About?"

"Removing the bulkhead with the adjoining suite," Rybaiski said flatly.

"And why do you need to do that?"

"It's a little cramped with two in one suite," Stu explained. "It will give us some more space. The next room is empty, so what's the big deal?"

"It's bad enough that I even allowed you and Navalle to hot bunk it," Trip remarked dryly. "I'm drawing the line at tearing out the bulkhead."

"Come on, we did it for you and T'Pol and the doc's so you married types had a bigger space," Rybaiski argued.

"With married being the operative word. Zack and Solon are married, T'Pol and I are married, with a kid no less," Tucker replied with an annoyed tone.

"Exactly my point," Rybaiski replied waving his left hand in front of Tucker's face.

The platinum band on the XO's finger sparkled brightly in the light and caught Tucker's attention right away. "What the hell?" Trip guffawed as he stared at the band. "You're married?"

"Yep," Rybaiski replied smugly just as the lift doors opened. "Did it last weekend in Vegas," he added before stepping out of the lift.

Trip followed him out with a perplexed expression on his face. "Your parent's know?" he asked standing at the railing on the edge of the bridge.

"Yeah, they were there. My dad said I had to make an honest woman out of her," Rybaiski replied sliding into the engineering station.

Tucker hesitated before stepping over to the command chair. _T'Pol quit her job to become a fulltime mom, I have a kid that's fifteen going on thirty, Archer's ex girlfriend was just sentenced to ten years in prison and Rybaiski Mr. Commitment -phobe is married…to an alien, from the ice planet no less. _"Commander Gervase, take us out," Trip instructed his new first officer. "Set a course for the Starbase, Warp five."

"Aye aye Captain," Gervase replied and then repeated the command to the helm.

"About that room Captain," Rybaiski prompted him.

"I'll take that under advisement Commander," Trip remarked as he headed over to his chair. _Admiral Stewart sure put together a diverse crew, _Tucker thought as he settled down in his seat.

The End.


End file.
